Systematic Redemption
by khanmiR1
Summary: Garrus Vakarian is a soldier of morality. When his employers at C-Sec start to hinder him from what's right in the galaxy, he must find an out. He knew it would happen this way eventually, he just never thought it would be through a human woman. GarrusXfemShep. rated M for language and adult themes.
1. SR1

_**Chapter 10 up!**_

_**I hope you all like this story; I plan for it to be a long one. M rated smut in the next chapter.**_

.vVv.

* * *

I. Didn't think I'd meet you here

.vVv.

Angrily, he clutched the small shot glass and brought it up to his mouth, downing the drink in one burning gulp. His taste buds fizzled out and left him with the bitter and tangy aftertaste that only cheap liquor can provide. Bringing his hand up to rub his eyes, he mentally chastised himself for his mistake. If it weren't for his utter stupidity earlier, he wouldn't be in this accursed place, putting up with blaring techno beats and ravenous women taking turns at shoving their asses in his face.

"Come on, Officer. Can't you just have a little fun on the job?" A venomously seductive voice travelled through the air and brought his attention to three figures in the corner of the club, not far from where he was. 5.67m away, just under the 6.0m threshold for audible eavesdropping range. He clicked his visor through the other readout options before setting back to 'audible distance', and readjusted himself in his seat for a better, inconspicuous view.

"I spent a long time in the archives…"

"…and you know it hasn't been that long since I last spoke to her…"

"…maybe we could head somewhere private…"

"Would you like another round of drinks?" The eavesdropper turned to face a young waitress. After taking a second to regroup his thoughts, he nodded curtly and returned to scanning the crowded room. His audible scanner was handy everywhere else besides a place like this. He picked up every little conversation, including some that were quite interesting and others that he didn't care much for. But they were all a waste of his time because of how difficult it was to pinpoint his target's conversations alone. Too bad this was his assignment. And no matter how miniscule or degrading it was, he needed to go through with it. This was the ultimatum that was given to him as a deciding factor of his fate among the ranks of the rest of the C-Sec officers. If he didn't want to atone for his mistake through a few grunt missions, then he can quit and settle into a life away from the law.

The waitress returned with 3 more shot glasses for him to drown in. He took one, then another right after. Having to clear his throat a little, he opened his mouth for a deep inhale. The liquor stung in his throat and he could feel the bubbly sensation of a slight buzz in his head. At least no one had bothered to forbid alcohol consumption on the job.

"…another night with him is torture…"

"…need to go to the bathroom…"

"…cancel the meeting tomorrow…"

He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently as he watched his targets move just outside of his extended earshot, no longer seeming to be immersed in conversation. The two were on their own data pads now, forgetting about their third companion who left to go dance on some other patron's lap. The room dizzied a bit when he turned his attention back to his last shot glass. _Screw it._ He downed it with a little more struggle than the ones prior. Dancers and patrons were already starting to float around the room more wobbly than usual. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them with the hopes that the room would no longer be moving. It was to no avail – he was drunk. Leaning his head back in his chair, he forgot his task at hand and thought about what he would tell his superiors in the morning.

_Well instead of gathering intel through eavesdropping, I decided to get drunk instead. Sir._

He laughed to himself at the absurd idea. This whole thing was absurd; Sitting alone in a dance club, drinking by himself with light tactical armor on and a visor on his left eye. If that didn't scream undercover operative, he didn't know what else would. Then again, there were quite a few others in the club with a whole variety of different types of armor on as well. So maybe he did have a chance still that he hadn't been found out yet.

"….bathroom was so dirty…"

"…another song like this the other day…"

"…can get some space around here? I need you to be a little more professional around me, Lieutenant. I'm still your commanding officer regardless of where we are. Now go…do something. Over there on that side of the club."

His attention was now focused on a very angry looking human woman, dressed in light tactical armor. _Alliance issued? _His eyes moved to watch her roam around their half of the room, searching for an empty seat. She paused when she caught sight of her watcher, and started making her way through the people towards him.

"Is that seat taken? I need a break." The Turian shook his head and gestured for her to sit before stacking the empty shot glasses out of her way.

"I uh… see you've been having a good time?" She spoke carefully, nodding towards the glasses he was handling. He gave her a look of feigned interest and turned his eyes towards the bar. One of the targets with the data pad was gone. _Damnit. This is why I don't drink. _He gave up and turned back towards the woman.

"As good a time as any. What about your now rejected admirer?" He motioned to the bartender by holding two fingers for drinks. The woman scoffed and held up two of her fingers after him. They waited in silence for their 4 drinks to arrive before continuing.

"He overstepped his boundaries and I had to deal with it. So no, it's not a very good time. Once I get this liquor in me though…" She paused and took both shots at the same time, keeping careful watch of her new acquaintance. "You can call me Shepard if you want, my last name. Everyone does."

"Hm..Shepard." He rolled the name over on his tongue, over annunciating the consonants. Reaching for one of his two shot glasses, he locked eyes with her.

"Vakarian." He said it slowly, allowing her to hear each syllable of the name, then he took the shot. Shepard eyed him carefully before reaching her hand across the table. She grabbed his remaining drink and downed it herself. The Turian male leaned back in his chair once more and chuckled.

"So that's what I get for inviting you to sit, hm? Some first date." His head cocked slightly towards Shepard while he watched her lap up a final drop from the glass. She laughed breathily while waving the bartender over for another round.

"You didn't look like you needed it. I did you a favor, Vakarian."

"Yeah, one that is still going on my tab, regardless. "

She curved her lips into a devilish grin and stacked their newly emptied glasses into another tower.

"Don't worry, it's been put to _good _use."

* * *

2 hours later, the human and Turian still sat at the same table, just as drunk, if not more so than the rest of the club.

"I finally feel like I fit in at this place," Shepard started and reached sloppily for the mixed cocktail at the center of the table. "But that's only because I'm more wasted than I've been in a mile."

Vakarian cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes at her. "…don't you mean, 'while'?"

"That's what I said, 'than I've been in a while'." It was stated so matter of fact, that he was forced to believe her. He _was_ drunk after all.

The Turian male glanced at her with curiosity lingering in the gaze before leaning his head on his hand. He sipped at his now stagnant tasting beverage. He was in the stage of drunkenness where he almost couldn't bear to force anything else down his gullet. Lights flashed and pulsated throughout his periphery and he struggled to focus his pupils on Shepard. He realized after much effort that her mouth was moving again, and there were sounds coming out of it. Well, he couldn't hear or understand them for that matter, but her lips were opening and closing for what seemed like forever, which pointed to some novelization of a new story for him.

In the first hour that they met, they exchanged pleasantries. The man let the woman talk for the most part, offering her short but polite verbal queues to her questions and comments. As the time rolled by, so did the drinks. The two became very obviously drunk. Vakarian was the one to finally break the first barrier by suggesting they play a game of 20 questions. The woman delighted in the idea and insisted with drunken slurs that she start the game.

A small finger uncurled around her dewed glass, pointing towards the man across from her.

"Okay, Vakarian. I'll get started since you aren't listening to my stories…How many times have you…had sex in a public place?" She grinned, baring her teeth in a glistening white row. Vakarian groaned and lowered his forehead to the table.

"…can't remember…or 4 times." His answer was muffled by the music around them as a ridiculously fast paced beat blared in their ears. Shepard winced at a head rush, and chimed back as crisp as she could make her voice.

"Did you say 3 or 4 times? That's a solid number!" He raised his head in time to catch her next question.

"Where were those places?" Vakarian flared his mandibles and bared his own sharp teeth in mimicry of the human's smile before retorting, "I thought it was my turn to ask a question."

Shepard waved her hand lazily while she sipped up the last of the blue concoction. When there wasn't another answer from the woman, Vakarian took it as an invitation and asked his burning question.

"hmm…Where are the places you've had public sex?" Shepard's mouth flung open in defeat and she threw her hands up to the air in playful frustration. She looked wild to him, and he gazed on with interest while she straightened up her back and combed through her hair with all 5 fingers of a hand.

"Well, there have been 3 distinct times that I can remember; On an Alliance vessel in the cockpit of the ship, in the C-sec library, and behind some crates in a warehouse whose location I will not disclose." She nodded, satisfied, and took a sip of her companion's drink. Her mouth puckered in disgust and she quickly set the drink back down in front of him. "You uh…you can keep that drink…ugh."

"Gee, thanks Shepard. I thought you'd never extend the offer." He snorted before chugging it. He wiped a mandible with his finger and frowned when his vision refused to return to normal. "Let's get out of here." He heard himself say it, but he didn't realize that it actually was him. The real Garrus wouldn't do that. Oh, right. He's drunk off his ass. How could he forget?

* * *

Uncertainty overtook Shepard's will. Uncertainty is a feeling that a soldier gets used to from the start. This feeling was different though, it held some other feeling with it. It carried with it a warm nervousness, raising her temperature and tingling in her loins. When she brought herself to her feet, those feelings were joined by the overwhelming sensation of zero gravity inside her head. She was on the ground, but her mind was cloudy, airy, and wistfully light. Her arms shot out as her center of gravity gave way to chase after her mind. To her surprise, warm steady hands grabbed at her waist, pulling her close to the support that was the Turian's torso. She blushed and uncharacteristically leaned into him, smiling up through her foggy drunken haze. She felt his chest rumble and shake, the vibrations of his tonal laughter reaching her bosom with a fiery heat.

"Mmmm..I like that sound. It feels good to my ears." Her words stumbled out of her throat and her tongue lingered over the final 's'. She reached for his waist as she felt him pulling her body towards the exit door, bumping softly around dancing figures.

* * *

As they neared the door to the outside alleyway, the Turian wondered at how he was supporting two bodies worth of weight. His felt tired and lazy, and all he wanted to do was fall asleep on top of this soft woman. So it came as no surprise when he found himself pressing the woman against the wall outside the door. Suddenly his body didn't feel tired anymore and he imagined how it would feel to have her naked body pushed against him in this way. His mind cleared of the techno haze and was replaced with a new type of fogginess; lust.


	2. SR2

_**Wow. Thanks a lot to everyone who decided that my measly chapter 1 was worth following, favoriting, and even reviewing. It means a lot and is a huge motivator. **_

.vVv.

* * *

II. Blame it on the Alcohol

.vVv.

"Excuse me." Garrus squinted at Shepard. Why did she say that? Well, it's actually fine that she said that, maybe she was trying to play hard to get like Turian women do. It wasn't what was said that bothered him. It wasn't even how it was said. It was the voice. Instead of being pleasantly soft and flirtatious, Vakarian heard it as a low and impatient grumble. Almost like a man's voice.

_Oh my god. She's a transves-_

His jumbled and borderline panicked thoughts were cut off by a largely masculine hand squeezing his shoulder. When the Turian brought his eyes to the owner of the hand, he sighed in relief audibly. The hand (and thankfully, the voice) belonged to the bouncer. Garrus knew this Krogan behemoth. Every time he had come here, the Krogan would be standing still as a statue, waiting for riff raff to disturb his alleyway peace. There would be no flirtatious or devious action of any kind outside of his dance club.

Shepard cleared her throat uncomfortably and placed both hands on Vakarian's abdomen, pushing him away from the potential crime scene. "Nothing to see here big guys, let's go." Garrus finally turned around to walk with his companion, still trying to get over the fact that he could have sworn Shepard might have been a man. It was still a strong possibility. It wasn't until he decided to look down at her that he realized by her "gaping mouthed" expression that he had been thinking aloud.

"Oh uh…sorry. I just heard his voice and I thought it came from you. Can't be too careful right?" He scratched his nose nervously and looked straight ahead. Ignoring what just happened, Shepard changed the subject back to the real issue at hand.

"So. I believe it was my turn. Have you ever had sex with a human?" She blinked up at him while they walked, or rather, stumbled down the alley together, casually grabbing the walls here and there for support. Garrus flinched, caught off guard by the resumption of his stupid game. He had only mentioned it to break the ice a little. He never thought his own idea would be twisted to interrogate himself. He should have known better. _But I'm drunk! That's it, I'm blaming everything on the liquor._

* * *

Blaming her ridiculously scandalous demeanor on the amount of alcohol she consumed in a 3 hour period, she decided to go along with it. Shepard could barely handle what was happening, and she almost felt sorry for the poor Turian. He's probably never even considered the idea of getting with a human, much less found any of them attractive. In fact, she herself hadn't ever thought about Turians as anything other than a militant race with powerfully strick personalities. _I bet he's repulsed by me. How do their women act when they're completely wasted?_ She sighed and slumped her shoulders forward in defeat. Intoxication mixed itself in her bloodstream, and she suddenly felt like laughing, crying, and yelling all at the same time. Not to mention her feet hurt. In fact, they hurt so much that she started to drag her toes with each step, slowing to a pace just a bit faster than a crawl.

"…Vakarian. I can't walk anymore. Why do my feet hurt so much? How long have we been walking?" She grabbed onto his arm for support while she steadied herself next to him. The unexpected weight on his left arm threw off his delicate balance and he flung his other arm out at a trash can next to him. _Why do __my__ feet hurt so much? _He looked around in utter confusion. They were in a back alleyway of the Wards, nowhere near the dance club they'd come from. As he regained his footing as best he could, he smiled as realization hit him as to where they were.

"Come on, Shepard. Just a little further." He reached an arm around her waist once more, pulling her with him towards the end of the alley. A door blew open as they approached and they found themselves on a small, out of place balcony overlooking the remainder of the wards. Further than that was the outside of the presidium, with its high rising towers spread about with even spacing. Looking up, the vast arms of the Citadel loomed over their artificial sky through the oxygen barrier window. In the middle of the night cycle, the Citadel's skyways were cleared of their lustrously perfect, digitally generated clouds and replaced with a dauntingly open view of the rest of their galaxy.

Shepard gasped and left her companion's side to lean against the railing as if to get an even better view. If she could stare at the Citadel's tentacle-like structure above her for an entire day, she'd be happy. But the fact that she could see beyond the massive city scape, at the wonderfully open darkness dotted with pinpricks of light was more than what she could ever ask for. Even when almost black out drunk, she would never cease to appreciate that she could live freely among the stars.

"Why is this even here? This has to be my favorite place on the Citadel!" Her smile cut through the intoxicated Turian like a hot knife through butter. He was behind her now, and while she stared at the beautiful City scape, he gazed at the beautiful body in front of him. His eyes shamelessly travelled up and down her curves, resting at each hump along the way.

_Why does the Alliance Navy issue their militant females such skin tight armor? Their males must go nuts on ships with them._

As if reading his mind, Shepard turned around and rested her elbows on the railing behind her, leaning back with her chest bumped towards him slightly. The movement was small, but it attracted his attention.

"No. No, I haven't ever had sex with a human female." He gulped down his rising temperature and shifted his weight to the other leg, subconsciously making room for a growing addition at the base of his armored chest piece. "Nor have I had sex on a balcony…" He huskily added as his hands reached out toward the open woman, wrapping around her back side and drawing her close. Heat rose to just beneath the plates on his face as he felt her grab onto his shoulders. She hoisted herself up onto the ledged railing and pretzeled both legs around his trim waist.

"Maybe we can fix both of those problems…as long as you don't let me fall." She breathed heavily as her body leaned in toward the armored male, closing her arms around his neck. She placed a hand on the back of his head, resting it at the base of his fringe, stroking and petting the rough hide. A low growl came from his stomach, up through his mouth and reverberated on her neck. Garrus nipped at the surprisingly soft flesh just behind her ear, garnering a few delightful shivers.

Strong Turian hands stroked her outer thighs while his mouth paused its nipping to tease her, "I don't see you falling any time soon by how you've curled your legs around me. Do all humans do this?"

"Some do I suppose – " She was cut off by her own sharp inhale of breath as she felt a rough tongue drag along the side of her neck. Hot words hit her ear drum like fire, "I know what my next question for you is." Her spine rippled in another shudder, stirring her whole body. She waited in anticipation with her hands gripped firmly on the back of Vakarian's neck. She watched him slowly close his eyes in pleasure, then open his mouth to affirm her suspicions.

"Do you want me, Shepard?"

* * *

Several minutes later, the two bodies had moved from their position along the balcony railing, to the cold floor at its base. The strong Turian had his prey trapped underneath him. The woman's legs were wrapped tightly around his waist while her arms were pinned to her sides.

"Well this isn't any fun since you've put your arms on the outsides of mine. How am I supposed to do anything?" Her lips pressed together into a pouting form that Garrus could only describe as 'cute'.

He nipped at her ear softly and whispered in between bites, "You're not having fun? This is the best time I've had in a while."

Shepard shivered at the feel of his hot breath against her cheek and adjusted her hips under him. Despite his wearing light armor, it wasn't the same as a standard C-Sec officer uniform. This particular outfit had less armor pieces to it – most likely for stealth enhancement. It didn't matter what it was for or why it didn't have as much protection. All she cared about at the moment was the fact that she could feel a surprisingly large lump against her pelvic bone. She wanted desperately to discover what exactly this tight fitting uniform was covering up. Her pinned arms made up for their inability to reach up at his face by making their way in between their bodies. They found the erogenous mass and began to rub slowly against the fabric. The body that it belonged to became rigid and tense. She rubbed with a little more pressure when she felt the breath at her ear hitch.

Garrus lowered his head further down, into her neck, while his hips began to grind against her hands. She inhaled sharply as the moving pressure of his groin humped steadily into her. Their shared arousal thickened.

"Move your arms, Vakarian." She gasped out to him through heavy breaths. He allowed her to bring her arms up and around his neck before tightening his forearms back at her sides, slightly under her shoulders. She rubbed and massaged his head and fringe with all 10 fingers, instilling a primal hunger in him that made him want her that much more. Growling into her hair, he leaned on one arm and reached down to the zipper at his body suit with the other. While he undid his uniform, Shepard took the opportunity to catch the Turian off guard. She pushed him to the side and rolled over him, straddling his waist. She beckoned him to continue his mission, then moved on to begin her own task of unzipping and unbuttoning her suit. Vakarian's fingers paused his zipper halfway down his chest as he watch with intensity while she slowly exposed her bare breasts to the air. Smooth, pale flesh shined in the hazy light of the presidium, high overhead.

He strengthened his resolve and hastily finished unzipping his uniform, lifting her butt from his groin to free the fully grown member trapped inside the rest of the suit. Shepard's small hands quickly pulled the thick shaft out, and stood above him, slipping out of her own tightly woven fabric.

Shepard suddenly remembered that she was extremely intoxicated due to the resulting headrush from standing so quickly. Hear head lulled to the side while she shakily finished her endeavor to rid herself of her awfully restricting clothes. When her body was naked and bare, she crawled back down to her nighttime lover.

"Shepard…I'm liking what I'm seeing." Vakarian flexed his mandibles in a Turian grin, and pulled the last of his torso piece off of his upper body.

He watched the woman's eyes move from shoulder to shoulder, face to chest muscles, stomach to lower abdomen. She realized at the same time he did that his pants were still on, which was a problem. 5 fingered hands moved to the hem of the soft fabric, pulling at the ends down toward his feet.

No sooner than when the pants had been removed did the enticed C-Sec officer understand his companion's human lust. She had risen quickly above the length of his throbbing member, and before he could even ask if she wanted it, her body lowered onto him, swallowing his cock whole.

The female above him writhed and arched her back in pure ecstasy, gasping at the girth of his massive member. He watched her body, enthralled by its slick and smooth form. His own pleasure was creeping up on him with incredible intensity, forcing him to grab her hips and keep her still while he rested. He attempted to clear his mind, but she wasn't allowing him to think and any inkling of brain activity fizzled out as she resumed her magical hip movements. _Why didn't I ever think to try this sooner? _

Once again, his thought was drowned out into nothing at the feel of her wet folds moving and squeezing around him. It took all of his strength and willpower not to explode right then and there. He focused what little he had left of his sanity on the movements of her wondrous hips on top of him. Garrus barely felt her hands grab his wrists to pull them up enough for his fingers to reach two small bumps of extremely soft flesh. At the surprising new feel, he opened his pleasure glazed eyes to see his hands on each of her perfect breasts, holding their pliable masses as her body bounced rhythmically against him. Teeth gritted together for the male while the female counterpart held her mouth open as their sexes braced and quivered for climax. Shepard fell to Garrus's chest and gripped at his shoulder bones. She brought her lips crashing down on the alien's mouth plates, holding him captive as her thighs shook with her rippling orgasm. Garrus gasped at the new touch and rolled his eyes back before closing them in order to feel his own intense rush. The new wetness of the woman's orgasm brought his own sex to its breaking point and he bucked his hips as the girth pumped waves of hot fluid deep into her. He felt the lips part against his face as her tongue entered into his mouth, rushing him with an overload of senses.

Shepard began to pull herself off of his body when his pupils shrank and his mind came back. He grabbed her arms and held her in place, closing his eyes to regain composure before speaking.

"Just…just stay there. For a bit." Shepard made an 'o' with her mouth before settling back, pushing Garrus's still-hard member deeper into her. She earned a tonal groan from her lover, but froze when she felt what he had been talking about. The Turians' anatomy was becoming more apparent to her as she realized that his cock had inflated, proving difficult to hold it together. An intoxicated fever overtook her, giving her the second wind that was to be expected with this surprise. She began moving her hips once more, gasping and moaning at the expanded girth of the intrusion within her. It stretched her opening enough to speed her heart beat, and leave her wanting more.

Vakarian squeezed her arms in reflex and growled and pleaded with strain for her to stop. Not that it hurt, it was just too much for him. He was already extremely sensitive, and this was the icing on the cake. He was experiencing a sensory overload, and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt her cum once again, her head thrown back and the muscles surrounding his cock pulsing and tightening around him. His body jerked as a second orgasm shot its way through him, exiting in the form of more fluid leaking into her now sweat covered body. As if this wasn't enough, he witnessed her hand move to the small bead of flesh above her lipped opening. Her fingers rubbed softly, causing her to scream in pleasure while her insides drenched his cock. A mixture of both of their cum leaked out around his now throbbing and pulsating member, pooling underneath them.

Shepard collapsed on top of his heaving chest, quivering and shaking in unsurmountable pleasure.

Gasping as if he had the wind knock out of his lungs, Garrus wrapped his arms around the woman's back. Stars floated into his periphery as he tried to blink them away. Everything around them rushed back into their heads while they came out of their sexual high. Sky cars honked their horns in the distance, and a faint whistling sound from nearby household air units made its way to their ears.

Still breathing heavily, Vakarian mustered up the strength to whisper to his companion.

"I'm tired, Shepard. Let's go inside." He almost laughed at the occurrence that followed. Shepard looked at him with fierce eyes, and proclaimed with an authoritative tone, "Don't you dare tell me that this is _your_ balcony, and that we could have been inside this _whole _time on a comfortable _bed_ instead of this awful concrete flooring?!" The Turian's mandibles flexed and squeezed against Garrus's face in a teasing defeat.

"Maybe." He thought for a second, then added coyly, "I had to christen the balcony at some point. But regardless of where we are, doesn't it make you happy to know there's a nicely made bed for us to fall asleep in?"

"…It better have silk sheets." Shepard grumbled as she lifted her body up, offering her hands to the Turian. He grabbed their discarded clothes and placed his hand on a small panel at the foot of the wall. Cracks appeared in the shape of a door to the right of the railing, opening to reveal a dark, cavern of a room.

Much to her surprise, the room lit up as they entered, revealing a larger, more spacious living room than what she had initially expected. Relief reflected on her face as Vakarian saw her sprint for the now lit bathroom, returning with a satisfied expression and a roll of Bath paper for him. The man took it gratefully and made his way into the bathroom for his own turn at cleaning up.

* * *

As the couple laid in the now rustled bed, they relished in the feeling of having a warm body next to them. Each was unaware of the other's similar thoughts, and the two drifted off to sleep, their forms twisted and comfortable against eachother.

.vVv.

* * *

Garrus woke the next morning, cold and alone. Struggling in his grogginess to remember if the night before was a dream, he patted the other side of the bed lazily. Coming up empty handed, he groaned at the headache forming just behind his eye sockets. _ Another lost night. Why do I even bother?_ The liquor was hardly worth it, and the memory of one night alone with a beautiful woman seared holes in his brain. He'd be better off settling for a Krogan woman who knew how to cook. Snickering at his insane thoughts, he rose out of bed, picking up pieces of his armor strewn about the floor.

Resolving to once again forget the previous night, he began his morning routine before work.

.vVv.


	3. SR3

_**As always, thankyou to everyone that has been reviewing and following my story. I know the chapters aren't very long, but this allows me to update quicker, but I do promise that Chapter 4 will be much longer. Hope you guys like this one.**_

.vVv.

* * *

III. Discovering Murphy's Law

.vVv.

Shepard was in a frenzy. Her ship was on its way to Eden Prime, home to quite a few human colonies as well as a decent amount of pirates and slavers. Routine was hardly the word she would use to describe this mission however, as the entire crew was up in arms regarding the presence of two strangers on board. The first and most suspicious was a Turian spectre. He had apparently joined the crew 5 days prior to Shepard's return from leave, causing her to be on edge upon setting foot back on the Normandy. The other, less unnerving addition to the crew was the famed Captain Anderson, war hero and veteran of the Alliance Navy. While Shepard harbored nothing but respect for the man, it was only natural for her to wonder at what secret the two were keeping from her.

A young Lieutenant interrupted her thoughts by handing her a datapad and signaling her respect through a quick salute. "What's this?"

The red haired soldier leaned in the slightest bit and dropped her voice to just above a whisper with her answer, "I found some more information that you requested, Commander, though it still doesn't explain why the two are here. Apparently there's been some comm chatter on the lesser used sub channels; different parties talking about the need for a Human in the Council, and the nervousness of the entire Citadel on recent Geth attacks."

Shepard wrinkled her nose slightly and furrowed her eyebrows in stern confusion. "Lieutenant, those two points you just mentioned have nothing to do with each other… Care to explain your reasoning as to how they're related?" Her finger flipped impatiently across the datapad screen as another crew member passed her a handful of leaflets on passable grouping variations. She felt a twinge of anger bubble in her temple when another crew member on the other side of the Deck called out her name in reprise, asking for her immeasurable talent with target-sight manipulation.

"Enough!" Bodies froze where their feet landed, and all eyes looked on in silent obedience to their seemingly fuming Commander. "The only sound I want to hear right now is the wonderfully dulling noise of fingers on keyboards. No one says a word until we touch down on Eden's surface-" She was ironically cut-off by Captain Anderson's deafening voice through the ship's loud speaker.

"Shepard, I'd like you to meet me in the Conference room for debriefing in about 5 minutes."

.vVv.

* * *

"So… I'm not kicked out?" Garrus Vakarian had been standing at attention in the small, 6' x 6' room, for roughly an hour, waiting for one of his commanding officers to arrive. He was expecting a full reprimand, complete with loud voices, clicking mandibles, and maybe even a few punches - depending on which officer came in. So he could barely hold back his surprise when a female officer entered the small room in civilian clothes, with nothing more than a cap to signify her rank. She stood in front of the offender, scrutinizing his eye movements.

"No. But this is only on one condition. A condition that I'm counting on you to fulfill, as I don't want to find out that my day was wasted coming here instead of spending time with my family…but I digress. Your new mission is to discover what exactly happened on Eden Prime, and who was behind it." The female Turian folded her arms over her chest and waited for his response.

"I…well. This is interesting. Don't you think it would be an easy out? All I would have to do is wait for the Alliance crew to return from Eden Prime and confront them."

"By that time, Vakarian, it will be too late. There are…suspicions. I've been doing a little research by myself, and as far as I can tell, you're the only one willing to chase after any real results. You want answers? You 'll need to find them yourself. Report to the Executor when you do get ahold of something." She patted him on the shoulder and left the room before he could even muster any sort of response. For the second time in just a week, he was left cold and alone; and confused as hell.

As he wandered aimlessly down the halls, he thought to himself of the night when he met the human woman. It was the first time he had even thought about getting close to a human; the worst part was that he _liked_ it. A lot in fact. So much to the point that he couldn't get her out of his mind. Her soft, light colored face materialized in his memories while he remembered with a shiver of the way she touched his torso. He hadn't realized that one could be caressed in so many varieties of patterns. Shaking his head, he sighed and continued toward the elevator.

Setting aside any fantasies that he would want to think about for the moment, Garrus realized that he didn't even know where to start. Up until his briefing with the female officer, he had prepared himself for a massive let down. He was actually expecting to be dismissed from the force, and had done everything he could to ready himself. For the past week, he had thought about all that he had ever accomplished with C-Sec. After crunching the numbers, it all boiled down to a solitary, depressing realization. He hadn't truly helped any mass of people. Sure, he had one or two who would thank him on the street for 'catching that thief' or for 'bringing my brother in law to justice'. The latter of which was a simple matter of determining which member of the family was more greedy than the others.

And whether he would ever admit it out loud or not, the simple jobs that he completed only made him angrier at the military. While he is on the Citadel, trampling down petty theft and fraud, there were battles being fought, colonies being crushed, and secrets being hidden from the public. This job, no matter how puzzling, would be the first thing he could be proud of for solving. He had the resolve and determination, he simply lacked the resources. _But not for long_. His mandibles twitched slightly as he thought of a certain hunch backed life form. His old hidden source. Garrus had no idea where he could possibly find him, but the options for the wretched being to hide were limited at best. The Turian would start at the lowest of the Wards, and move his way up. If he didn't find the source, then he would still be bound to overhear at least someone having a conversation about something they weren't supposed to.

So he set off. Upon reaching the markets, his sense of smell was immediately overwhelmed by the unmistakable stench of feces. Turning his head to the right and confirming his instinct, he watched in utter horror as two young volar children threw small wads of the disgusting matter at a frail looking Elcor.

Garrus reluctantly took hold of his pistol and pointed it lazily at the kids. "Fun's over, run back home for dinner." They screamed in high pitched, digitized tones and hobbled away. Without saying another word, Garrus grabbed a hanging towel from a line of clothes and tossed it on top the Elcor. He earned a wheezy thank you, and started down the path for the bar.

Where there was alcohol, there was information. He usually just needed to find the drunkest patron. He was rewarded with a sly human face, staring at him with beady eyes over a glass. The human watched him steadily as Garrus made his way to the empty seat next to him.

"You're not exactly who I was expecting to find, Harkin, but you'll have to do." He snapped his fingers for a drink. When Harkin didn't answer, Garrus turned to face him and spoke once more.

"What did you do with Elias?" He watched closely as the human male set down his glass and sighed in defeat.

"If I told you what happened to that mangy old fool, you'd get up and leave without shooting for more intel. Come on, Vakarian. I ain't stupid. Now he's gone, and I'm in his place – the one with all the information you can get. If it's prostitutes you want, I'm not in that business no more." When his drink was filled again to the brim, Harkin paused his soapbox speech for a swig. Garrus cut him off by inquiring about his mission.

"Tell me everything you know about Eden Prime."

"Oh, is that it? You just want all this information about a regular mission gone rogue and secretive? Might as well have asked me for rights to the damn Presidium." The man bitterly chortled at the Turian and had time to take several more sips of his drink before he was questioned again.

"Harkin. I know you have access to information now that the other…informant…is out of the picture. At least give me a head start. You've got to be just as curious about that mission as I am."

Harkin squinted his eyes in thought before pointing a finger at him, and nodding his head in approval. "You know, I actually am pretty interested. But I doubt you'll tell me about it when you do find something good. Tell you what; why don't you look for someone named Dr. Michel. She works in the Med Clinic. Word is, she's been having a bout of…interesting cases, involving a flurry of different organic races appearing badly wounded at her door. Last time I spoke to her, she had a patient with a hankering to meet with the Shadow Broker himself." Harkin lingered on his last sentence as if he had poison dripping from his tongue. But Vakarian had only become annoyed with the human's dramatic tale. He grabbed the collar of Harkin's coat and demanded more.

"Tell me. What. You. Know." Harkin's voice might have been secretive and venomous, but Vakarian's was low and dangerous. His sub vocals curled in the back of his throat as he verbally warned the informant. The human winced and put his hands up in front of him with defeat.

"Look, Vakarian, this is all I know. I spoke to her briefly when I went to pick up some medi gel, okay? I asked how her day was, she said not good, I asked why, and she followed up with what I just told you, in those exact words! I shrugged it off at first, but you seem like you might be able to make sense of her hectic day. Just leave me to tend to my growing drinking problem in peace. Damn, it's guys like you that make me drink in the first place." Vakarian growled and shoved the man away towards the counter. It was annoying enough that Elias was gone, but to have Harkin take his place? And not to mention Harkin seems to have been the reason for Elias's disappearance. Garrus mentally noted that he'll have to interrogate him later for that. For now, he needed to head to Executor Pallin to discuss any more leads on Eden Prime. He was more likely to know anything about it than any other informant he could ever meet with.

.vVv.

* * *

Shepard's boots clacked against the hard surface beneath her with an empty reverberation that rang through her hollow head. She was tired, and wanted to think about something, anything. But every time she tried, all that came to mind was the untimely death of two men. Eden Prime was not a place that she would have thought to have a battle on. Geth had overrun the small colonies, leaving only a handful of humans left. When confronted, they were of no help to her, and she could feel her heart blacken with rage at each step she took towards the enemy. Every corner they rounded was full of Geth attempting to blast their way through anything and everything. It was actually quite amazing that 2 of them had made it out alive; though the council hadn't entrusted her with this mission for nothing.

She turned the corner, forgetting about her squad trailing quietly behind her as she finally succumbed to the prying thoughts of the mission. Eden Prime was the very definition of the ancient "Murphy's Law". Everything that had a possibility of happening that day, happened. Not even two minutes after they touched down on the surface, her and her teammates were forced to fire waves upon waves of bullets. Corporal Jenkins had fallen first, being replaced shortly after by a new ally, the survivor, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. After tossing more Geth around, Nihlus's lifeless body was found, only for Shepard to discover that he was killed by another Spectre. As if everything hadn't gone wrong already at that point, she amazingly stumbled upon the beacon in Saren's sights, and used it before he could get to it, spiraling her through coded flashbacks and visions. _Next thing I knew, I woke up 15 hours later from a very short coma. _

"Commander, you alright?" A concerned Lt. Alenko asked her after he and Williams noticed Shepard's eyes practically burning holes in the wall by the balcony they were stopped at. She was jerked out of her self-induced trance and blinked a few times, her eyes stinging with tears.

"Yes," she managed to choke out before clearing her throat pointedly, "Let's start heading to the Council. I'm telling them everything, even if they don't want to hear it."

.vVv.

* * *

Exectuor Pallin looked on at the young Turian before him in utter disbelief. A measly C-Sec officer was talking back? After receiving direct orders? He thought he had seen everything.

"Look, Vakarian. I _ordered_ you to stay off this case. I told you what you wanted to know, and now that you know it, there shouldn't be anything more that you need to search for." Garrus gritted his teeth and bit his tongue lightly to stifle any rise in his voice before continuing.

"Executor, don't you see? The very fact that you have told me what's really happening is _more _than enough justification for me to keep going!"

"I am ordering you to Stand Down, Vakarian! The council doesn't have any more time to allow you to run around trying to find proof. There is a hearing in just a few minutes for Saren's guilt or innocence."

Garrus couldn't believe what was happening. The logical side of his brain attempted to soothe him by saying Pallin's behavior made sense. He was a 'by the law' Turian. Always had been, always will be. It's against the rules to have an officer continue to search for evidence during or after a hearing on behalf of the accused. But the side of Garrus that hated the by-the-book nature told him to argue. To point and get angry at the injustice.

"Saren's hiding something. Give me more time! Stall them."

Pallin shifted weight to his other leg in impatience and only raised an eyebrow at the officer's stubbornness.

"Stall the council? Don't be ridiculous. Your investigation is over, Garrus."

* * *

_Garrus? Garrus…Vakarian?_ Shepard almost stopped completely at the sound of Vakarian's first name. She chuckled quietly to herself and chastised her inner mind to linking her one night stand on leave with the officer in front of them. But god, if it didn't look exactly like him. She watched in a dream-like state as the young Turian began walking towards Shepard and her squad. A knot formed in her throat and she struggled internally to fight the lump and swallow her sudden symptoms of nervousness. She noticed almost immediately the way Garrus's mandible flared outward slightly in a motion that was seared in her brain from just one night of seeing him; an arrogant, Turian smirk.

.vVv.


	4. SR4: Touching Foreheads

_As always, thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read my story. Thank you even more to those who take extra time to favorite, review, or follow. It's a nice feeling to log on and see a different, higher number for each of those stats. This next chapter is pretty fluffy, but I think it has been long awaited. Don't worry, it's not the end. Enjoy!_

* * *

Shepard and her shore party found themselves waiting at the entryway to the Med Clinic, where they were to speak with Dr. Michel regarding Garrus Vakarian's whereabouts. Against Shepard's will, the Turian male had snuck his way into the lonely recesses of her mind and burrowed, staying where few men had ever been prior. She wasn't one for relationships, which was made apparent to both parties involved on the night they met. It was supposed to be quick. She was about to return to the Normandy after leave, and her dimwitted Lieutenant could probably be held at least partially responsible for her brash and promiscuous actions. Alenko was a good soldier, but a horrible extrovert. It was only made worse when he attempted to counteract against his quiet, intro-personality by hitting on his commanding officer. A real charmer. So it wasn't a surprise when Shepard had made a target out of a lone Turian officer, sitting at his own table, people watching. She was already buzzed, and the fact that he wasn't even interested when she first sat down sparked a need in her bones from that moment on.

Outside of Shepard's clouded mind, she barely felt her hand push on the entryway button, granting the team access to the Clinic. They stepped inside, and there he was; crouched behind the front barrier, gun in ready position, finger over his mouth, and eyes locked on Shepard. There was no time to think, and in a spurt of mere seconds, pistols were drawn and shots were fired. In an instant, Dr. Michel's captors were floored and Garrus was inspecting the bodies.

.vVv.

Garrus Vakarian stared in awe at the newly appointed Spectre. Shepard had surpassed everyone's expectations, including his own. The first night they met had left Garrus with a poor first impression of the woman. Promiscuous and simple, just like every other female he's ever laid with. He couldn't have been more wrong about her. Here she was, proudly shining in front of the council, accepting one of the biggest honors bestowed upon any Citadel being. This prize is not awarded to just any one and his confidence towards her faltered as he wondered what she must think of him. If he had gained a poor first impression of her, he could only imagine what kind of self-image he had projected for her to judge.

So here they now stood, Commander Shepard and her newly found squad of Wrex and Garrus, awaiting entrance to the Normandy. "You guys ready?" Shepard turned around and flashed a beautifully excited smile before opening the hatch. They went straight for the command deck, where Shepard made a very moving speech to rally the crew behind her cause.

.vVv.

After Shepard's pep talk, Garrus Changed out of his armor in the Crew Quarters and proceeded to making his way to the Storage deck with a newly found purpose in his mind. Her words had filled his head and inspired him. He decided it was time to find a goal and make it his own – something for him to strive for. This goal was to help Shepard, no matter the cost. She had been nothing more than an acquaintance until now. After he boarded the Normandy, she became his Commander. And a Turian soldier is bred from a youngling to follow their Commanding officer into the depths of hell if he must. She was a true leader, born to cut through darkness and proven to pave the way towards victory; and he had fully realized it when watched her become the first human Spectre.

Her strength and courage towards the council sparked a fire inside him that he had never felt before. Her fierce justice was balanced with her merciful nature towards the weak; and it made his heart soar with inspiration and pride. Her leadership was what he had been waiting for.

Today he had finally found the courage within to call the one man in his life that he had ever been afraid of disappointing; his father. It was time to tell him where he was and what he was doing with his life. Garrus wanted to tell him everything, to let him know that he was fighting the ultimate fight for justice. He would be proud.

.vVv.

Shepard sliced through the thin skin of the delicate fruit she held. The fruit yielded perfectly tender, deliciously pinkish-purple meat inside. Her mouth watered, ready to taste the first bite. Ashley told her it was called a "fig". Williams claimed she bought it from a legitimate source, but Shepard knew otherwise. Most fruits bought anywhere in the Citadel were cloned from single, ancient seeds and grown in water tanks. Naturally, they tasted a bit watered down from the environment they matured in. They lacked the vibrancy in both pigment and taste, which Earth fruit had. It was only the experimental researchers who knew exactly how to grow their cloned fruits and vegetables. Most of them used a small alien bacterial agent, found on small asteroids in the terminus systems. The bacteria was deemed illegal, as it is lethal to Volar. That didn't stop people from using it. Those beings who weren't affected by the bacteria loved the fruit that was grown with it. And of course, high demand meant even higher prices. When Shepard commented that she must have given a pretty penny for it, Williams only replied that she had to pay her commander back somehow for saving her life. It was with a grateful heart (and hungry stomach) that the Commander had accepted the delectable item. But she wanted to share it with someone. Not knowing exactly where he had gone, she had wandered the first two decks of the Normandy, waiting to take a bite. When she reached the elevator to descend to the bottom floor, she couldn't help herself any longer, and divulged in its bliss. The small piece that she had cut was everything she had hoped and dreamed of. When the elevator door finally opened to the Cargo hold, she quickly swallowed and hid her hands behind her back. Garrus was in the far corner of the hold, talking to someone on his terminal next to the MAKO. As she took her first steps toward her new alien friend, her thoughts wandered to when they had first met.

The memories of that night were still fuzzy, and she wasn't sure if she would ever remember all of it. Shepard mentally crossed out that first night and replaced it with their second meeting, the one that she had never expected.

_He had called her Commander Shepard. His tonal voice seemed to dig roots into her soul and she struggled to keep her mouth in a line, rather than letting it curl into a smile. Butterflies clouded her gut and she suddenly felt the urge to jump on him and shower him with kisses. – What? It was a one night stand, not a love show. She slapped her inner self and focused on what he was saying. His words blurred and meshed together again as his sub vocals vibrated through her suit and attacked her loins. She gulped as she fought herself for control. Logic told her that she was not supposed to be feeling this way about a Turian. She was a human, and she was drunk when she did it. But Emotion fought its way through and whispered sweetly to her that it meant a little more than that. It told her that the one night stand would never have happened if they didn't have chemistry. Drunk or not, it can't be faked. Shepard regretfully ended the conversation with Garrus on a dull note due to her internal struggle. She barely said a word when Alenko urged her toward the council, and regretfully walked on past the Turian._

Blinking her eyes to bring her back to reality, Shepard resolved with herself that her Emotional side was right this time. She was about to take her crew into the depths of the galaxy, chasing after a lunatic who had every resource at his disposal. It was suicide, and she owed it to her feelings to ignore her logical half and live a little. She playfully snuck to one side of the MAKO, making sure to stay hidden from the Turian's view. As she inched closer however, she realized with regret that it might not have been the best time to come down here. Garrus was in a heated argument with… his father? Shepard gulped and inwardly panicked. She didn't want to accidentally eavesdrop on him. She had turned on her heel and was about to take a step away from him when his strong, dual-toned voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Commander, what are you doing down here." The sentence had come out sounding more like a statement rather than a question. Shepard heard the anger in his voice and felt the vibration of his sub vocals lingering in his throat with frustration. Turning around, she smiled at him softly and decided against bringing up any instigating queries. Instead, her arm extended from behind her back, her hand revealing a small green and pink lump. Garrus raised an eyebrow plate and glanced thoughtlessly at the fruit. He wasn't interested in what she had, and disappointment reflected in the woman's face. Garrus noticed her expression with regret and forced himself to look once more upon the fruit with strained curiosity.

Even in his anger, he couldn't stand to see her facial features bearing a sad look. He gingerly plucked the fruit from her small hand and took a tiny, trying bite. It was sour and bitter, and he winced as his tongue flicked out in disgust.

"This isn't good, Shepard. It's… bitter; are you sure it's ripe?" Taking the fruit back from the ungrateful Turian, she stubbornly put a hand on her hip, and finished the fruit. She stared at him the whole time, exaggerating each bite and chewing longer than she needed to. Garrus huffed impatiently and turned away from the woman, opening the driver's door of the MAKO and climbing inside. Shepard realized that he didn't want to be spoken to, and that gave her even more of a reason to climb in after him. _You might not want to talk, but that doesn't mean I'll let you do what you want._

The Turian rolled his eyes and crossed him arms when she climbed inside. He was becoming more and more irritated at her actions. Why couldn't he simply be left alone? He quickly opened his door and jumped out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind him.

He heard a muffled '_What the hell?!_' from inside the tank and he sped his pace in an attempt to get away from the prying woman. He turned around and watched her stomp her way towards him. If he wasn't so angry, he would have been amused – she looked ridiculous. Preparing himself for another bout of yelling, this time from a female, he closed his eyes lazily and crossed his arms.

A few seconds passed and he slowly creaked open one eye, wondering why it was so silent. His gaze met hers, and he opened both eyes when he noticed how close she was. Shepard was standing directly in front of him, staring sharply with big eyes into his face. Instead of a chastising tone, her mouth opened and her voice travelled to his ears in a soft, reassuring manner.

"I want to give you a tour of the Normandy. I know you're upset about something, so maybe this will help take your mind off of it? Follow me." She reached for his arm and pulled him towards the elevator, ignoring his bewildered expression.

.vVv.

She was a good tour guide. Garrus pushed the anger in his brain aside as he thought of the possibility of her working in the tourism branch in a past life. But the thought was short lived, and his mind reverted to thinking upon the conversation with his father. Shepard's voice was drowned out by a replay of the disappointed and strict voice of the old Turian officer, rebuking his only son. Garrus had only wanted his respect, instead receiving nothing but contempt. His father yelled at him, hated him for quitting the family tradition of C-sec. He accused him of being weak and afraid, and called Shepard a vagabond and criminal for being a Spectre.

Garrus leaned weakly against the nearest wall, closing his eyes once more and clenching his fists in anger. His mind reeled and raced into thoughts of frustration but stopped when he heard his name escape the lips of the woman in front of him. Her questioning voice brought him back, and he opened his eyes as he determined that there was only one thing that he wanted at that moment; and it wasn't a tour of any ship.

Without thinking, he grasped her arms and moved her, backing her body against the wall. His heightened senses heard her voice quiver and felt her body tense. He was grateful when she sighed softly, allowing the Turian some time to grasp the words he was trying to say. Finally, he was able to piece them together.

"Shepard, I…" He kept his strong hands on her arms and leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. "I need a favor." His voice was low, making Shepard shiver under his touch. She swallowed and was barely able to find her voice in reply to him.

"I know you're upset with your father…I heard you-" Her words were muffled and stopped with Garrus's hand gently covering her mouth. Slowly uncovering it when he was sure she wouldn't say anything more, he spoke again.

"Please, Shepard…Just don't bring that up. All I've been doing for the past hour is thinking about that conversation. Your tour was great… and the Normandy is a remarkable ship," He paused, taking in a deep breath before continuing. His forehead leaned into hers some more, and he dropped his hands from her arms to bring them around her waist. He tightened his grip around her and pressed their bodies together.

"But I don't need you to _help_ me think about things. I need you to _stop_ me from thinking. My brain has been buzzing with anything and everything…and I just…I just need it to stop. Get in there, and stop me from thinking. Just for a little while."

He felt the woman's spine ripple and he felt her hot breath on his mouth as she sighed. She brought her arms up and over his collar, bringing her face so close to his that her lips brushed against the skin that covered his mouth plates. Garrus closed his eyes and thought back to their first date, trying to conjure the image of the first time she had pressed her lips into his. He could vaguely remember it, and he pulled her even closer to him. He needed to feel it again. They were sober this time, and all of Shepard's human quirks were very prevalent and obvious to him now. Despite her alien feel, he lost himself in her touch and let the woman take lead for him to follow.

Surprisingly, Shepard pulled away from him and leaned to the side. Ignoring the disappointed rumble from his throat with a smirk, she reached her arm around him and found the switch on the wall, opening a door behind them. Garrus questioningly looked around and realized that her tour had ended at the Captain's quarters, leaving them burning each other up with desire right outside her bedroom. He stepped in after her and watched with much interest as she typed at her terminal, keying in passcodes to lock the entrance. When she was finished, she returned to him and once more wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. Where were we?" She whispered softly while pushing her body into him. His hands found their way around her waist again, feeling the muscles underneath the fabric of her clothing. His fingers reveled in the smooth feel of her human torso, but his mouth remembered what they really wanted and he returned his forehead to hers once more. Nuzzling his nose against her cheek, he rumbled his sub vocals in satisfaction. Shepard realized after much thought that he must have been putting his face on hers because he wanted a kiss. _This body language must be universal._ She closed her eyes and slowly pressed her lips against his mouth, giving him what he wanted.

.vVv.

She had succeeded in stopping the Turian's thoughts. His mind went blank, and all of his senses seemed to pour their feeling into that one spot on his face. Blood rushed to his groin and his stomach turned with nervous excitement as he felt her smooth, soft lips against the plates of his mouth. The rough skin that covered the hard bone of his face still had many nerve endings, and this fact was very quickly making itself known to him. Garrus never imagined that Shepard's lips could feel so good against his own. He barely became aware of more feeling, happening all over his body. Her hands had moved to the back of his head and neck, evoking shivers. She pushed him more into her lips, deepening their kiss. The pressure felt even better than before, but she didn't stop there. Slowly, she opened her mouth, moving her lips in circles around his. Garrus was curious, but afraid of messing up their chemistry. After a few more circles, her lips paused, then resumed their hypnotic motion, beckoning him to follow. He hesitantly obeyed, very cautiously opening and closing his jaw to mimic her movements. He thought he was being punished when she pulled her head away, but realized that it was a reward as Shepard jumped up, wrapping her calves around his waist and resting her thighs on the ridged joints of his hips. Garrus had no choice but to catch her before she fell, and he let himself chuckle when he realized which part of her body he had grabbed. He quickly changed his chuckle to a growl however, when he watched her face turn from a smile to a seductive luster. She grinded her pelvic bone against him and motioned for him to take them to the bed.

Vakarian happily complied, carrying her light form to the other end of the room. He lowered her gently underneath him and crawled on top of her, letting some of his weight relax against her body. Small hands found their way to his face, and he sighed contentedly as he allowed her free roam. He watched her eyes move around with longing. _She's driving me crazy._

Garrus swallowed the need to pound her hard and fast right then and there. This was a special moment, and he refused to ruin it with Turian lust. Sex was a casual affair among his people, and this was the polar opposite. The human kisses and human touching were so different for him, but he loved it. He was curious, and every question he thought of about a different human action was answered with an alien feeling that sated his desire. So far, the remarkable woman underneath him had showed him why kissing was so great. No wonder humans took part in it so often. This next lesson of facial caressing was just as satisfying for him.

He closed his eyes and relaxed into her touch, allowed a low, steady rumble to emanate from his chest. One of Shepard's curious hands reached for the source of the rumbling, resting on the center of his chest to let him feel the warmth of her palm. Her other hand continued to move around his face, finding sensitive areas and rubbing with small amounts of pressure here and there. He let her know when she reached a spot that felt good by intensifying his sub vocal. Garrus opened his eyes to look into hers when he felt her hips push against him. He returned the pressure, and leaned down for another kiss. He mentally congratulated himself for knowing the body language to indicate wanting another kiss, and continued with his learning endeavor. Feeling more confident this time, he applied pressure against her mouth and began slowly opening his jaw to illicit movement from her lips.

Shepard once again surprised him when he felt her tongue slip inside his parted mouth, feeling and moving around the inside. This new feeling was invigorating for him, and he pushed his pelvis into her even more. The woman felt his interest in the newly taught human action, and she continued to gyrate her tongue around. Garrus finally got the hint, and touched his tongue to hers. Hesitant at first, he began to get used to the feeling, and they started moving their tongues more fervently against each other, taking turns exploring the other's mouth before fighting playfully for domination. Garrus finally pulled away, taking a breath before speaking.

"Does this have a name? Is this…normal for humans to do?" Shepard smiled and pulled his head into the crook of her neck. She affectionately stroked his fringe and answered his question while nuzzling her cheek against his mandible.

"It's called French kissing. As much as I would like to take credit, apparently people in France created it a long time ago." Garrus lifted his head and touched his forehead to hers, laughing quietly. His voice was low and husky, the primary vocal chords twisting around his sub vocals, vibrating his chest against her.

"How pretentious of them to name it after themselves." He flared his mandibles out in surprise that he had gotten a very girly giggle from Shepard. When she quieted down, she brought her hands to his face again and locked her eyes on him.

"Do you like it?" She searched his face for a clue and sighed with relief when she found it in his relaxed mandibles. She had come to figure out that clenched jaw muscles meant virtually the same thing in almost every sentient species. Shepard gave a small peck to his mouth and readjusted herself, opening her pelvic muscles to him as she re-wrapped her legs around him.

Garrus knew this display of body language well and shivered as heat gathered in his groin at the feel of her openness to him. He showed her more silent language as he tugged lightly on the hem of her shirt. Together they stripped themselves of their clothing and returned to their positions on the bed, sighing and relaxing at the feel of their warm skin against each other.

They had done this before, but this time was different. Garrus stroked and caressed Shepard's soft body, memorizing every dip and curve, every bone and blemish. He drank in the light hue of her perfect skin. His fingers moved up to cup her face, and he mentally made note that his favorite part of her was her cheeks. They were soft, and warm. It was amusing for him to think that even when Shepard was fully clad in armor and on a mission, her cheeks stayed the same. Your eyebrows, eyes, and mouth together on her face made for a menacing look when she was angry. But Garrus realized that all he would have to do is picture only her soft cheeks and he could never possibly be intimidated by her. He brought his now unburdened mind back to the woman as he buried his face in her hair. He let his hand wander down to her breast, fondling and squeezing lightly. Soft moans escaped her perfect lips as he felt her body curl and tense under him.

His hard groin was fully erect by the time he finished teasing the mounds on her chest. He prodded the surface of her opening, purposefully lingering at the outside. He watched as she grabbed at his arms, begging in short, breathy whispers for him to please enter. Garrus couldn't handle her any longer and slowly pushed his member inside her, groaning at the tightness of her lips around him. She gasped at the girth and pulled his body back to her, wrapping her arms around his neck. Garrus inhaled the sweet scent of her hair deeply before pushing his hips more and more until he was completely inside her.

Shepard released exasperated mewls and moans into his ear. He used both vocals to whisper fragmented sentences in reply to her moans. His hips continued to alternately push in and pull out, increasing in speed. Shepard cried out in ecstasy when Garrus began pounding his hips hard into her. He relished the sound of her cracking voice and focused only on holding back his release. Her vocal responses to every single one of his actions was enough alone to make him come.

"Garrus…I…I'm going to come!" Shepard whispered to him in between his thrusts. He moved his hand to her clit and rubbed slowly, smirking when she writhed at his touch. He felt her teeth bite into the skin on his shoulder and he clenched his mandible in elation at the mixture of feeling throughout his body. He let out a low groan as his climax was reached, exploding his seed into her quivering lips.

Garrus relaxed on top of her and asked into her shoulder if he was too heavy. Shepard's only reply was one last moan as her vaginal muscles clenched and pulsated around his cock, orgasming from the small thrusts that he had continued even after he came.

Garrus opened his eyes after listening to their breathing for a few minutes . He cupped Shepard's cheek and clicked his teeth at her teasingly.

"Will you be here when I wake up this time?" Shepard squinted her eyes at the Turian before enveloping him in a comforting hug.

"Only if you promise not to take over so much of the bed," She kissed his mandible, then his mouth, then his nose, and finally his forehead. Her mouth lingered against his skin before she turned her head downward to press her forehead against his, as he had done to her so many times.

"Does this have a name? I see Turian couples touch their foreheads every once in a while," She whispered as her eyes closed, and she gulped down her nervousness at the question. Butterflies floated into her stomach again, as she anxiously waited for her companion's response. She knew the answer already and couldn't understand why it made her so nervous. She resolved that it was more the anticipation than anything.

.vVv.

Garrus took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He didn't know if she would be put off by the answer to her question. He took her lead and closed his eyes as well, deciding that it still wasn't time for him to think yet. So he spoke, fearlessly saying exactly what the woman wanted to hear, unbeknownst to him.

"It's a sign of affection. Turians do it when…" He paused briefly to gather more confidence before revealing the answer.

"It doesn't have a name…but...it's an action that Turians do when…when they love eachother."


	5. SR5: To Be With You is Easy

_Hello Readers. Thank you to everyone that has been reading, and thank you so much to those reviewers who have been reviewing every chapter! Seriously, it means a lot. _

_Now here are responses to a review and PM that I thought would be good to address to everyone:_

_**Is this Shepard the default Jane Shepard?**__**Because to be honest, I avoided your previous fic because of that strange name you gave you Shep. **_

_LOL. Yes, this Shepard is the default 'Jane Shepard'. I wanted to see the reception difference between stories if I switched up the name. Jane just seems like such a boring name for someone so amazingly vital in the galaxy. I'm thinking about having a vote on names for the next story at the end of this one; which is still pretty far out, so don't worry._

_**Just wondering because I see it in a lot of other stories, aren't Shepard and Garrus's bodies incompatible because they can be allergic to eachother? You know, dextro and levo and all that? And on another note – is it okay to make requests of a character? Like say…if I wanted to see a little bit more aggressive or angry Garrus?**_

_First and foremost, while the Mass Effect game did mention (through Mordin) that there could be allergic reactions, I personally believe that it is an exaggeration. The food part I understand, and it makes sense for a variety of different (metabolic) reasons. But as far as them having sex, they're travelling in space! And it's the 22__nd__ century. No one can sit here and tell me that soldiers don't go through all kinds of immunizations and/or receive implants or take detox pills or SOMETHING to prevent illness on board the Normandy. I just think it's a little silly that they don't have preventative measures given their advances in technology. _

_Secondly, it is perfectly fine to make requests, I just can't always guarantee that it will be fulfilled. I can assure you however, you will be seeing a much more aggressive Garrus soon. I've been trying to save it for when Shep dies. Obviously, it will be devastating for him, both mentally and personality wise; but I'll see what I can do in the meantime._

_And on that note, I am very interested in this "mass effect kink meme" that I keep hearing about, but I don't have a livejournal or whatever place it originates; plus I'm just downright lazy. So PMs are always welcome if someone wants to make a story request._

_Now enjoy the chapter! (It's extremely fluffy)_

.vVv.

A bright light seared through a single closed eyelid, waking the sleeper beneath. Garrus slowly opened the eye to a purple screen, shining blue and white alternately in alarm. 5:55 am. He impatiently clicked off the visor, and swung the device onto the bedside table. Why does he always forget to take it off? He pays for it every morning. Already stretching the free arm, he attempted to move his other arm to follow suit when he realized something warm was holding it in place. He rolled his head toward the warm body sleepily, inadvertently tangling his mandible in a few strands of dark hair. They smelled of…fruit. Human fruit.

_Mmmm._

He closed his eyes and sniffed again, then again. Finally he took one long breath, savoring the tangy scent, before he gently pushed his nose into the source of the hairs. He rubbed and nuzzled into a warm, soft, fruit-smelling scalp. Alternately sniffing and mumbling to himself, he adjusted his body as close to his companion's as he could get, taking care not wake its sleeping form. Alas, the slightest movement caused a rippling effect in the bed, waking the woman next to him. A tiny noise escaped her lips as she breathed in deeply and turned her body to face him, all the while stretching. Garrus positioned his chin above her head, flicking his mandible in thought.

_She's…cute._ He blinked a few times, picking apart what he had just mentally confirmed. _Can Shepard even be called cute? _ As if in reply to him, Shepard moved in his arms once more, curving her face upward. Her nose was now in the crook of Garrus's neck, nostrils gently blowing air on his hot skin. He wrapped both arms around her tightly after the gesture, showing her his acknowledgement of her nuzzle. It was a sentimental motion, whether she was awake or not. Turians always showed their lovers signs of their feelings, and nuzzling faces was among the best signals. It showed the understanding of one's vulnerability, and proved to the one receiving the nuzzle that they were trusted enough to have the lover's face in such close proximity. Garrus sighed contentedly and rubbed small circles into her back with his talons. He wondered if human culture had the same loving gestures that Turians did. It didn't matter now, he felt as if he had the rest of his life to find out with her.

As if in response, Shepard peeled her eyes open reluctantly, but was instantly comfortable after feeling her lover's talons gently scratching her back. She felt like she woke up in heaven. The bed was wonderfully warm and comfortable, and she had a muscular man to use as a body pillow. What more could be asked for? She giggled and curled her lips into a puckered smile, kissing the curve of her Turian's neck. His skin twitched slightly at her touch, but she felt him stretch his neck as an invitation for more. She kissed again, then pecked a few more times. The kisses were light and soft, instigating a low rumbling vibration from deep within his chest. Shepard pressed her palm against the source of the vibration, listening and feeling Garrus's vocal satisfaction.

"Does _this _have a name?" Her soft, groggy voice airily floated to his ears, awakening his senses further and drawing his eyes open once more.

"Does what have a name?"

"This grumbling…growling that you do sometimes."

Garrus chuckled lightly and pulled her body closer to his chest, increasing the tempo of his sub vocal vibration for her to feel.

"I don't think there's a name for it. I guess I do it when something feels nice, or if I'm happy. I don't really pay attention to it."

Shepard gave a soft hum in reply while she continued to press her palm on his chest. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she spoke again.

"So touching foreheads together…that's a sign for love?"

Garrus tensed his muscles for a moment before loosening them when he felt Shepard's palm on his torso again. She hadn't brought up the subject since the night they had first slept on the Normandy together. He had been on the ship under her command for roughly a month now. Almost every day was spent either calibrating various aspects of the ship, researching the enemy, or taking part in some hazardous mission. The nights however, made every long and tiring day worth while. Shepard invited him to her room, some nights crawling next to him with a basic need for a body, and other nights grasping his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist with a demand for his love. Each time, he gave her exactly what she wanted, secretly sating his own desire for the woman at the same time.

It almost didn't surprise him that she brought it up today, of all mornings. Their previous night of love making had hit an all time high. It was lustful, yet romantic. Rough, yet comforting. When they had finished their bout of ecstasy, they curled up in the bed sheets, holding the other as if they would never let go. Shepard had fallen asleep in his arms not before sweetly kissing up and down his neck. Garrus had laid awake next to her for quite some time, caressing her cheek and drawing her closer to his chest, willingly accepting the warm surge of love blossoming for her in his heart.

He knew she felt the same way, and he knew that when she asked her question this morning, she wanted to hear a certain answer. This was how women were. Even Commander Shepard, first human Spectre, woman who surprised them all, could be amusingly predictable at times. Even though she had asked about the meaning of 'forehead touching', what she really wanted to ask was "_Do you love me"._

And the answer was yes. _Spirits, I can't believe this is real._ The answer had always been yes. No other woman had ever made Garrus do the things he did for her, or feel the way he did about her. Besides always watching her back, holding her six on the battlefield, he watched her emotions. Hell, what else was he going to spend his time doing on the ship between missions? Even when they were on missions, there was always at least a few minutes of downtime, and Garrus took full advantage of every chance he got to study his Commander's movements and mannerisms.

At first it had all been so alien to him. They had met with a drunken one night stand, then parted the next morning without so much as a thought. Neither had imagined they would ever meet again; but Garrus wasn't one to forget so easily. He wondered if she would remember him if they were to meet again. To his surprise, they did meet once more, both parties remembering the other very well. She had invited him onto her crew, to which he gladly accepted, and thus began his slow spiral into becoming enamored. The ship was Turian, but her commanding style was one he had never seen before. A mixture of Human, Turian, and something else. Perhaps some personification of mercy or compassion. Whatever the combination, it suited her well, and gained the respect of all personnel on the ship, especially Garrus.

She started taking him along with her on each assignment, cycling through the crew with the third member, but always making sure Garrus was present. They worked well together, and suddenly her human mannerisms weren't so alien; the way she slipped on her armor, the way she held her gun, the way she trotted lazily when there wasn't a sign of danger. He began to see her as beautiful, the way one would look upon a person of the same species.

Yes, Garrus Vakarian was in love with Commander Shepard. Which was exactly why he wasn't going to give in that easily. He knew what she wanted to hear, and Spirits be damned if he didn't want to give it to her. But that wasn't how he worked. He loved her, which meant he loved everything about her, including the way she huffed impatiently and demanded what she wanted when it wasn't given to her.

"…Yes, touching foreheads is a sign for love." He flared his mandibles out in amusement when he felt her squirm and breathe in his encircled arms. Her trademark huff could be heard, exemplifying her stubborn nature.

"So why did you do it to me?"

Garrus closed his eyes lazily and ran his talons through her hair. "Why did I do what, Commander?"

"Why did you touch your forehead to mine?"

"…Because…I wanted to." He took his time with the words, enjoying her impatient wriggling at his answers.

Joker's voice interrupted their slow talk with the day's schedule and wake up call. 6:00 am. With wide eyes, Shepard pushed out of Garrus's arms and launched herself over his now sprawled body. She rolled quite clumsily onto the cold floor then stood lightly and began combing her hair with her fingers on her way to the bathroom.

"Your mandibles must have taken quite the rough up last night from my hair. There are kinks in it that you wouldn't believe!" He heard her exclaim to him through the sound of running water. Garrus laughed and rubbed his face with his hands, waking himself as best he could before leaving the warmth of the messy bed sheets. He looked around in proud amusement at their clothes in two neat piles where they had left them the night before. It gave him a comforting and redeeming feeling. He was here, in her room, listening to the sounds of her morning ritual. If he had to stay in this room with her forever, he would be fine with that. He stepped into the bathroom, joining Shepard's body in the view of the mirror. They both looked at their reflections, gathering how they looked next to one another. Their bodies were so different; and yet, it seemed perfectly fine. Shepard smiled through her toothbrush at him, and Garrus returned it with an outward flick of his mandibles and a rub of her arm with his fingers. He walked over to the toilet and began relieving himself. He heard a surprised shriek followed by laughter, then a playful smack on his buttocks. He could get used to this.

.vVv.

"Will you tell me now why he was staring at you like that?" Garrus questioned as he lifted his new box of weaponry from the Cashier's counter. After breakfast on the Normandy, Shepard dismissed the crew for approximately 6 hours of shore leave for resupply of stock. Joker had docked them overnight at a small outpost station just off of the Citadel. Food was cheaper here, there was less traffic, and the guns were better. In fact, the only time Shepard ever shopped for any type of weaponry was when she was docked at this station, Vox-2. It was one of 4 outposts placed strategically around the Citadel to warn of intruding enemy vessels. Since all they really had to watch out for were Mercenaries and the occasional "lost" Vorcha vessels, the stations had declined a bit, slacking in their guard and gaining lenience with passersby who traded goods. People had begun to set up shop, and one by one, all 4 outposts were converted to semi-guarded "mini malls" so to speak.

Garrus took a seat at a bench and opened his box of items like a child on Christmas. His hand reached in and resurfaced with two new heat sinks in hand. Putting one in his pistol, the newly bought upgraded heat sink clicked into place with a light hiss and pop – the trademark sound of the glue seams pushing air through its rivets as it locked in place. He looked at Shepard with a corny flare of absolute satisfaction, to which Shepard couldn't help but laugh at.

"Having fun with your new toys?" She reached for the other heat sink, handling the cool metal block with delicate fingers.

"Shepard, don't dodge the question again. You said you would tell me after we bought our stuff."

Grabbing the heat sink from her, he placed it back in the box and rested his hands on his knees, awaiting her answer. Shepard sighed exasperatedly and slumped forward. This wasn't something she wanted to talk about. She had known this talk had to happen sooner or later. Of course, she had simply wanted to avoid it altogether. But her encounter with Kaiden Alenko that morning in the mess hall was more than enough reason for her to go through with this discussion with Garrus.

Forcing herself not to think about the reaction Vakarian would have, she pushed the words out of her mouth with much effort.

"Alenko heard us having sex." Her eyes squeezed shut in reaction to hearing the words with her own ears, as if she couldn't believe what she had just said. If it was that bad to her own mind, she could only imagine how bad it sounded for the Turian. But when she slowly peeked her eyes back open to look at him, his only reaction was a lazy blink and a miniscule motion of rubbing his neck with a hand.

"Ah…that's it, Shepard? Is this some human thing where if you hear a couple having sex, it's offensive..?"

Shepard opened her mouth, then closed it again to think a bit more before answering. Normally, hearing someone have sex is something that you would tease them about. Chakwas had taken advantage of that opportunity many a time aboard the Normandy. But the offensive bit, that only happened when jealousy reared its head. She hadn't actually realized that Alenko might have been jealous when she saw him.

* * *

_She kissed the Turian male softly on his mandible before grabbing her jacket and leaving the small room. He still had to put his clothes back on, and she needed to alert the crew of their surprise shore leave. She exited through her doorway and rounded the corner, only to bump right into an unexpected crew member, Kaiden. She really should have expected to see him immediately due to the proximity of his station to the Captain's quarters. But she was shocked nonetheless. She gulped and addressed the lieutenant as she would any other day._

"_Good morning LT. Ready for breakfast?"_

_He stood before her, motionless and tired. He had the look in his eye that gave away that he had stayed up all night. Shepard inwardly cringed as she remembered all of the sounds that must have emanated through the cracks of her door seal. Damn Turian and his stupid, sexy, wonderful body. She locked her eyes with Kaiden and almost fell to the floor when she heard what came out of his mouth next._

"_I can't believe you would do anything like that with a Turian."_

_Kaiden visibly shrunk and put his fist to his mouth after saying those damning words. He bit the flesh on his hand and squinted, waiting for his Commander's onslaught._

_It never came. Shepard simply stood before him, eyes closed, hands folded behind her back. When too much time had passed, she finally turned and walked toward the Command deck, bypassing the mess table and her breakfast._

* * *

She shook her head and leaned back against the bench, slumping.

_She only does that when she's upset. _Garrus moved closer to her, his eyes searching and scanning her face for any sign that would give away what she was feeling. He found only the faint gleam of regret, and his thoughts were confirmed with her next sentence.

"Garrus…I think we should tone our relationship down. If it bothered one person, I can think of a couple of others that it would bother as well." She sighed deeply and grasped his hand. Her fingers were heavy and rested lifelessly on his palm.

Garrus didn't understand, couldn't understand. Was she ending things with him? Over someone finding out that they fucked eachother? His body followed the suit of his commander and slouched next to her. Reeling his mind for an answer that he couldn't find, he growled angrily at the situation. On Turian ships, sex was an expected affair. That and fighting. In fact, it was made known to any and all soldiers that if they had any sort of sexual urge, to relieve themselves of it through any means necessary. It cleared the soldiers' minds and readied them for battle. Of course, sex with Shepard was much more than just a stress-reliever. He looked at the woman as if she was his, and he reveled in the fact that the same emotion was always reflected in her eyes towards him as well. This thought was not one that was easily acquired with most Turians, and it took a while for Garrus to even admit it to himself. These feelings and emotions were sparked through his love of a human, and amplified by her return of love towards him.

He was simply incapable of understanding why they were having this conversation. So he decided to voice his thoughts in the easiest way possible.

"Shepard, I am literally incapable of understanding what's going on here." He stared at her, hoping to make her realize that if she really was trying to break up with him, he won't just let it happen without a fight. He watched in utter confusion as her mouth curved into a lopsided smile and she breathed out a few wisps of a chuckle. Her hands were no longer heavy feeling, and they flew up to his face, resting on either of his mandibles.

"I'm not breaking up with you, Vakarian. Jeeze, how thick headed are you?" Her luscious lips mockingly kissed his mouth. Garrus was furious. She inadvertently made him feel all of these stupid emotions, only to tell him she was just kidding. He breathed in as deep as he could, and blew as much air into her face as he could muster. Shepard's face broke free from him and she whipped her hands back. When he realized the expression on her face was anything but happy, he knew he had gotten proper payback. So he sat patiently, folding his hands in his lap. She would explain her cruel joke sooner or later, he would just have to wait.

Her mouth huffed and Garrus watched as the woman crossed her arms and legs in frustration.

"Okay Garrus. Of course I'm not breaking up with you. But I can see that it's tough for you to understand this situation. Kaiden is jealous. And if he is upset about it, then soon everyone will know and also be upset about it. Not only that, but our mission is bigger than just our tiny crew. Saren must be stopped, and we can't do that when we're openly having sex and boasting about our relationship."

"But it's not like we're running around telling everyone that we're together."

"No, but we might as well be if we keep displaying public affections. So I think we should just keep it a secret for now okay? We should refrain from touching eachother all the time, and we definitely can't have impromptu sex scenes in the elevator."

"That was _one _time, Shepard. This morning."

She watched in mild amusement as the Turian next to her crossed his arms and turned away from her.

"So we won't display our relationship in public…is that an order?"

Shepard smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Yes it is, Vakarian."

.vVv.

The Normandy's crew was anything but energetic after they returned from the surface of Feros. The mission was a success by the book, though the lines of morality were crossed multiple times. Shepard's ground crew was a mess, and she considered it a failure for the most part. Garrus's chest piece was in shambles, leaving his torso bare and revealing gashes in his thick hide left from multiple almost direct hits from Singularities. Both of Shepard's heavy pistols were in pieces while her thigh plate was half hanging off of her body, blood pooling and hardening around the opening. Her omni tool was smashed, clamping its metal fittings and trapping her flesh underneath. Liara T'soni sat in the corner of the cargo hold, clutching her arms with bloody hands and crying through gnashed teeth. Her voice echoed through the beams of the large bay and hung heavy around the three broken figures. Silently, they shed themselves of everything they could and made their way to the medical room.

As Dr. Chakwas sealed the gashes in Vakarian's chest, Shepard paced back and forth across the room in deep thought. Joker had patched a message through the speakers while she was applying a layer of medi gel to her burnt thigh. Now, as she took step after step all around the small med bay, her thoughts travelled to Admiral Kahoku. The message was from Admiral Hackett of the Fifth Fleet. He informed her that the mutilated body in alliance uniform they found on Binthu was indeed Admiral Kahoku. Hackett explained quickly in the brief message that Cerberus was behind it, and after alliance personnel completed their autopsy, they found he had been experimented upon through the use of genetic tissue by needle injection.

Shepard had slammed her fist against a metal tray, crashing it down onto the hard floor. The message was infuriating, and not only because it reminded them of Kahoku's tragic death; but because the message also mentioned Cerberus. Of every encounter she and Garrus had with them, none of them were ever on good terms. What made it worse was that there was barely anything Shepard could do about it. Cerberus might be a morally wrong private sector, but they were hardly the real enemy here. They had bigger fish to fry, regardless of how nasty Cerberus came across as.

"They'll get what's coming to them one day, Commander. Just try to relax for now." Chakwas mumbled half to Garrus and half to Shepard while she closed the Turian's wounds.

"I know, doctor. But it doesn't change the fact that I have this…feeling. It doesn't feel right. This message sent something ominous down my spine. I need to do something about Cerberus but I can't right now. Not with how things are playing out with Saren."

Garrus cleared his throat and tried speaking in an attempt to take his mind off of the searing pain that a new needle in his flesh was providing him. "We shouldn't forget about Cerberus completely, but now is not the time to confront them. Saren is the biggest problem anyone has. It was only made even more prevalent with what Benezia said to us…"

Shepard sat next to him and lowered her head in mourning for the Asari. Liara had taken her mother's passing very hard, no matter the previous actions of the twisted woman before her death.

"You're all done Garrus. Just don't peel off the gauze fabric, it'll ruin the medi gel seal and unnecessarily expose the stitching to the air. Shouldn't hurt though. If you feel any more pain, come back to me and I'll have a look."

.vVv.

After the two left the med bay, they walked slowly to the crew quarters, talking about the day's events. They discussed strategy when they exited the elevator, spoke of formation improvements when they passed the mess table and by the time they reached the corner of the bay where the Captain's door was, they had replaced words with kisses while Garrus had his commander pinned to the wall.

He couldn't help himself. Garrus realized that it had become increasingly difficult to avoid contact with her completely, and when they did get to a place where they were alone, his body made it clear what was on his mind the whole time. He needed to touch her, to feel her tight muscles with his fingers, to have her wrap her small arms around his neck, to place his palms on her butt and grab as much of the muscle as his greedy hands wanted. Every time their faces came together was a burst of electricity in his heart that sent lightning bolts to each nerve ending in his body. The missions were terrible, but she made him feel alive after each one. Today wasn't any different, except for the fact that he didn't want to wait to grope and kiss her until they were behind her room door.

Feverish hands moved and slid all over cold armor as the two hot bodies intertwined their limbs around each other. He couldn't get enough of her and made it apparent by pushing himself into her even further, overloading her with sensory pleasures all over her body. Tongue in her mouth, arm around her waist, fingers between her thighs; it was all too much for either of them to handle. Each breathy gasp from Shepard made Garrus ache with want.

"Garrus…we can't…publicly…need to get…into the room first…" The Turian's onslaught deterred Shepard from properly getting her point across as he forced her to say her protest in between kisses. He paused his attack to lean his forehead against hers. He rubbed her arms gently before reminding her what kind of Turian he was.

"Sorry, Commander…I thought you would have known by now that I'm not very good at following orders."


	6. SR6: The Inevitable Filler

_Hello readers. I will take this time to apologize for such a late chapter! The beginning of college is always rough, but now that the first couple of weeks are through, I can get back to my normal schedule. This might be second to the real reason; I am suffering from a serious case of writer's block. However, I'm almost finished with the next chapter, and will be posting that one by Monday night. Therefore, I had to make this one a sort of "filler". _

_We're reaching the end of the timeline for the first game, so be ready for some serious changes in the coming chapters. _

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and thank you to all of you that have stuck around for this long. _

_.vVv._

Shepard stared down the barrel of Wrex's gun, confidence faltering behind eyes of steel. She knew exactly why he was mad; knew just what had made him tick. And she understood his feelings and empathized with his people. But he didn't know that, and perhaps didn't want to know. Not now, anyway. But Shepard was determined to beat this. She needed to prove to this alien fiend that he had something more in her than just a human commander. He was so blinded by furry that he failed to see what his eyes showed him almost every day; Commander Shepard loved her crew. She made it clear with every word she said to each individual, every action she took for their benefit. Had it not been for the fact that there existed a deep-seeded appreciation for the woman before him, Wrex would have already pulled the trigger.

"I won't ask you again to put the gun down, Wrex. You're being brash and hard-headed."

There was that unwavering authority. His fingers curled and tightened their grip around the handle of the shotgun, heart beating through his index, urging the digit to place the tiniest bit of pressure on the trigger. Wrex's head swam with rage and indecisiveness while his insides twisted and lurched against opposing forces in an attempt to make sense of the jumbled words coming out of Shepard's mouth.

_She's right._

The gun lowered and dropped to the ground with a soft thud while the Krogan seemed visibly shaken in front of her. Such a large, daunting figure…and yet he was before her, smaller than ever in the eyes of shame. There were no words for the two of them to share any longer; both parties knew through body language what the closing thoughts to the argument were. Wrex knew that Shepard always kept a clear head, and that he _was_ being brash when thinking that an illegitimate army of krogan bred to kill for one certain Spectre was not the way to restore life to his dead race. Usually anything good takes hard work and determination to cultivate – this method of curing his people was the easy, sloppy way out. And it took the complete trust and reassuring of a human to help him remember.

As Shepard walked causually away from him towards the main tent of the camp, Wrex made his way to the other end. It felt like a walk of shame, and it couldn't end fast enough. All eyes were on the alien figure while he sauntered from the crime scene towards the one area that could make him feel better; the armory. It was a makeshift armory, along with a weapons modification bench, where he found the Normandy's lone Turian mixing and matching pieces of a few different assault rifles. The Krogan waited behind Garrus, watching carefully as deft fingers completed a piece and handed it to a patient Salarian next to him.

"You sure this'll work, Vakarian?"

"Oh it'll work, as long as your aim doesn't falter. If you stay focused, that gun will help you out of plenty of life or death situations. I know it's done me some good over these past few months." He stood, brushing metal shavings out of the crevasses of his armor plates where they had fallen and collected.

"Wrex. Did you have fun with your ocean target practice?"

"Watch it Turian. I didn't come over to your tent to be patronized."

Garrus crossed his arms and looked the angry alien over. He was still steaming from his earlier bout of rage, though he seemed restrained.

"Then what are you here for?"

"I need a new gun. Mine's an old one, and its time is up. Apparently shooting at fish in the distance repeatedly wears out an antique." He handed Garrus his weapon of old, passed down throughout the generations of warriors before him.

Garrus ran a finger across the top manifold of the shotgun as he thought to himself how wasted the weapon was. It was a strong machine, and could have been put to good use against rows of Geth, though not anymore.

With a curt nod after sizing up his project he returned to his work bench, immediately starting to hammer and pry at the metal fittings.

"I'll give you a gun…it'll just have to be a bit recycled. But you'll get something good, I promise."

.vVv.

How many hours had it been? Days?

"No, remember, if we've been fighting for a day, we would have seen the sun set. Did any of you even take Cosmological Geography and Physical Science 101? It's elementary."

"Garrus, I am _this_ close to shooting you in the head with my grenade launcher." A very distraught and tired Ashley Williams leered exasperatedly at the snarky Turian behind her. Her arm was raised at an alarmingly threatening level, pointing an accusing finger at her new found enemy.

"I've had enough of your comedic antics for one day!"

"But Williams, it hasn't quite been a da-"

He was cut off from his teasing response by the very near sounds of gunfire and screams over Shepard's comm. They had just barely finished off the last of the scouts and were preparing their omnitools for the setting up of a very dangerous bomb. Peace and quiet is what they wanted, however they were hardly ever given their needs on the battlefield.

Shepard became painfully aware of how many casualties they had taken when Garrus took over the controls, allowing her time to observe the carnage around them. She slowly brought her tool up to chest level, pushing the comm button in response to the distress call.

"Lieutenant, talk to me. I hear noise but nothing from you, what's your status?" Her free hand found its way to Garrus's shoulder to rest her weight on him while she listened. She could feel Ashley's prying gaze as she ignored her surroundings to focus on Alenko's response.

"Coming in hot…can't hold them off…too many…" While she could only make out bits and pieces of his message, she heard enough to know what kind of trouble he was in. Nodding to Ashley for support, she handed Garrus his rifle and tugged on the corner of his shoulder plate to follow. He left his omnitool with Ashley before gathering himself up and following closely behind Shepard.

.vVv.

Ashley Williams was a good friend to Shepard. But in this moment, the friendship was dying, deteriorating fast without any way of stopping it. Shepard put her face in her hands while the Lieutenant made her case against her Commander, informing her of why she disapproved.

The woman was angry, upset, frustrated and sad. Shepard agreed with those feelings, felt them as waves overtaking their tired bodies. They were both on the Normandy, depressed as hell and worn out to boot. The mission was a success, though not without extreme losses. The tiredness came from their moving constantly all day in the hot Virmire daylight. The anguish and tears came from the loss of a crewmember; Lieutenant Alenko.

Shepard had to make one of the toughest decisions of her life in choosing between him or the bomb. She was torn apart by the need for justice in the galaxy, and the love for a crew member and friend. Losing people on missions was not taken lightly by the Commander, and each new second aboard the Normandy without a key element to their crew was a new punch to her gut. Each face wore a bitter loss in the wirnkles, each voice raspy and dry.

Then why was she being yelled at? Williams had asked to speak freely and in a haziness, Shepard had granted permission. It wasn't until the voice raised to a higher volume, an angrier octave, that she realized what she had done. A lesser crew member was on the verge of full out yelling at her commanding officer because of a battle action that she disagreed with.

This was not how mourning was supposed to go. Shepard was sad, yet she felt rage building in the pit of her stomach as she listened to the feeling pouring from William's mouth. She missed Alenko, but she'd be damned if she sat there and took unjustified accusations like a dead fish.

"Williams! Enough." She closed her eyes in relief as the accusing words faded to a squeak before dying out completely. When she reassigned her vision to the woman in front of her, she watched as Williams clenched her fists together and looked down at her feet.

"Commander…I can't stand this anymore. It's been about 5 hours since we boarded the Normandy from Virmire. 5 agonizing hours of dealing with Kaiden's death. Yet I found you here, talking with the last being I expected to see you with." Tears welled in the chief's eyes as she continued.

"How can it make me feel better when I see you flirting with him? I see the way you look at him, I saw how you looked at him on Virmire too. This mission was a failure in my book. We lost an important part of our team, all because you had to go back for your alien lover."

Shepard slammed her fist on the metal table, ringing hollow reverberations through the Crew Deck.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Ash? I sent Garrus back for you! Then it all started to fall deeper into hell from there. So I did the next logical thing; I went back for you. I went back for Saren. I went back for the bomb. Alenko knew what he was getting into the moment he first set foot on the Normandy. I will not let you sit here and tear me apart while you inadvertently boil Alenko's death down to such a simple thing as 'a poor decision'. Do you know how many other lives we lost today besides Kaiden's? How dare you disrespect not only his death, but every other soldier's that's missing from this ship right now. You might has well have spat on their graves." Shepard stood now, tall and unwavering. She watched as Ashley's face twisted into a silent cry, giving proof of her realization to Alenko's sacrifice. He died so that they might live. So that they might win.

But the feel of regaining her authority was bitter sweet. She might have shown the present crew that her justice was swift and not without confidence, but it was at the cost of trust. As she walked towards the elevator, she felt the stares of a dozen human eyes criticizing her love for a Turian. Ashley lost their argument, but she had won by planting the seed of uncertainty in all of the human soldiers that were watching their confrontation.

.vVv.

Garrus walked nervously into the elevator, silently bidding farewell to his unfinished project on the MAKO in the cargo hold. The vehicle needed to be fixed after its previous use on Virmire, however that could wait. It had been two days since his Commander; since his love, had come to see him at his station. He wondered how she was after the first day, worried about her at the end of the second day. Now at the dawn of the third day cycle on the Normandy, he needed to see her.

He understood she might be mourning – he was too. The entire crew had been making their way to and fro with a step so slow and tired, they could have all been mistaken for Husks. It was too much for Garrus. He needed Shepard, needed the one person that could right all the wrongs in this shitty universe. The one woman that could make him forget all of his problems with the soft, loving touch of her fingers. Two whole days without seeing the one person he ever really _wanted_ to see was long enough.

When the elevator opened to the crew deck, he hesitated. There was a good chance a lot of the crew was in the mess hall. They would see him walking directly to Shepard's room without so much as a glance to anyone else. He personally didn't care, but after witnessing the fight between her and Ash, he was willing to bet that Shepard did care on some level. He needed to see her, but he needed to be careful with his approach. He nonchalantly made a cup of coffee, mentally noting how incredibly obvious it now was that he was going to see the Commander, as he never drank coffee of any kind. Avoiding the glances from scattered crew members around the room, he slipped quietly behind the corner and adjusted the collar of his tunic before pressing the button for the door.

He found her right where he guessed she would be, lounging in her seat at the Commanding officer's private terminal, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Her eyes moved to the entrance to her room, eyeing her guest with a lack luster gaze. Upon realizing who it was, she placed her mug on the desk and brushed her fingers through her hair, smiling softly at the man.

"Garrus. I already have coffee." Her warm voice washed over the Turian's waiting body, caressing his spine and coating his cold nervousness with a blanket of reassurance. He stepped over a few stray papers towards the woman and set the cup next to her mug. Pulling another chair closer to the desk, he sat and looked around the room. It was calm in her quarters; void of any of the depressing auras from the rest of the crew. Garrus felt as if he had stepped into a small sanctuary.

He couldn't quite put his finger on the feeling, but whatever it was, it was comforting and satisfying. He looked back toward Shepard, flicking his mandibles out slightly and voicing for a moment the deep thrum in his throat for her to hear. She reached her hand out to him in response, touching the rough skin of his palm and gently massaging each finger.

"I missed you." Garrus barely rumbled out the words, captured by her loving gaze and basking in the relaxing comfort of simply being close to her.

It felt like a dream, he was right in front of her after not even hearing her voice for the past 48 hours. He waited for the dream to end, for the butterflies to fade away, for the rush of reality to make its way back into his mind. Instead, his senses were met with warmth. Shepard had left her seat and settled into his lap, thighs resting on either side of his waist, arms wrapping themselves tightly around his neck. If he really was dreaming, he didn't want it to ever end. She was comfort and light in his most terrible darkness. And lately, it seemed that darkness had grown and was trying to overtake their sanctuary that was the Normandy.

Garrus sighed and drew his arms around her waist, bringing her body close. He let his head fall into her neck while the sweet citrus scent of her human soap filled his nose. She must have just showered not too long ago.

"I didn't mean for anyone to die." He heard her voice crack and felt her hands grip at his neck and fringe. She was crying into his shoulder, and for the first time, Shepard wasn't the commander of the Normandy. In this moment, she was the one woman that Garrus swore to protect. As his arms held her and his hands rubbed on her back, he knew that this was what he was meant to do. While she stayed strong to stop Saren and the Geth, it was Vakarian's job to keep her six, to hold her close to him while he kept her safe from harm. He would always be there for her, even if it killed him.

And in this thought, there was serenity. A certain kind of unique peace overtook his body as he sat there, holding the small figure. He felt strong and compassionate and his mind was crystal clear in its thoughts for Shepard. He loved her, and there wasn't a force in the galaxy that could change that.

He slowly pulled her body off of his shoulder. He held her arms in place and caressed through the fabric with his thumbs while he looked at her tear stained face.

"Don't you ever let anyone's words bring you down or make you question what kind of person you are. Right now, you're looking like the Council's best option. And even without the threat of Saren's wrath, you're the crew's best option. So far you have proven how great of a leader you are. Williams is just…sad. Everyone is sad over certain crew member's deaths. But it wasn't your fault. People might make mistakes, but this wasn't one."

"…but I chose to leave Kaiden. I went back for the bomb. We could have saved him, Garrus."

"I heard his arguments against you over the comm. He wanted what was best for the good of the people. One sacrifice for everyone else's well-being is a great price to pay. It's not a price that anyone ever wants or plans to pay, but he made his decision."

The Turian watched his woman intently, waiting for his words to sink in. Bringing a finger up to the tear streaks, he wiped what he could off of her soft face. She was the most alien, pale, squishy, beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it tore at his heart strings to see her this way.

"I've never seen you cry before."

Shepard smiled at him and cupped his mandible, stroking at the rough hide. "It doesn't happen often. Consider yourself lucky, Vakarian."


	7. SR7: Death of a Hero, Birth of a?

_**Holy shit, I'm back. A new year, a new resolve for being responsible with my…responsibilities? I'm sure you've all heard that one before. Thanks a lot for your patience, my dear followers. I hope you all like dialogue, because this chapter is full of it. As I mentioned before, a lot is changing – and I will do my best to make sure you readers do not get bored of my story! I know it's the same characters and it can get a bit repetitive depending on how many ME fics you read, but I've got a few plot twists up my sleeve… next chapter will be up this weekend and full of that rated M stuff you all love. Let me know what you think!**_

.vVv.

_Garrus's muscles ached and the whole of his body longed for nothing more than a warm bed, and a lover by his side. Over sounds of muffled gunfire, his thoughts brought him back to the previous night of sweet, interspecies love making with a certain commander who fit the bill perfectly. It was probably why he was so exhausted today. His shots were sloppy, and he was the exact opposite of "ready" for a suicide fight against a rogue Spectre and his army. _

_He leaned out from his cover and fired away at an unsuspecting husk. Miss._

"_Wait, what?" He asked no one in particular as he watched the malformed body contort and crawl away from him, regrouping with other misshapen beings. Was this the universe's way of punishing him for taking part in a rather savory activity instead of sleeping? To his dismay, he wasn't the only one who noticed his faulty shots._

"_Garrus, that was sloppy! I didn't mess you up for the long run, did I?" A sly smile spread across the dirt-caked face of a lone commando woman. He had just enough time to notice how frayed her bangs had become in the fight before she plummeted herself into 3 husks, biotically launching bodies in all directions. _

_She's definitely the craziest woman I've ever met. _

_A grin found its way onto Garrus's face, twitching his mandibles outward. He reached his hand into the pack he had lying next to him, pulling out two dark green rectangular cartridges. Their combined weight was reassuringly heavy. He simultaneously pulled off two slatted metal fittings on their top sides, exposing knotted wiring underneath. Pulling and untangling, Garrus wrapped two bullets in the wiring for each respective cartridge._

"_What's this?" The woman from earlier reappeared next to him, craning her neck around his shoulder in curiosity. Garrus looked exasperatedly at her peering face._

"_Don't you have a battle to fight, Shepard?" She grinned wickedly and grabbed a grenade off of her utility belt. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled the pin with her teeth, and threw the bomb over her shoulder. A few seconds later, the explosion resounded through the large room, rocking and shaking the floor and walls all around them. Garrus laughed heartily and turned slightly towards his companion, showing off his handy work._

"_I've turned these claymores into makeshift grenades, rigged to go off with a large bang of extra hot shrapnel when they hit the ground after a good toss. These are Tungsten rounds that I put in here." He paused to point at what he was describing. "The metal in the rounds react in an interesting way with the wiring, causing a much less controlled explosion. Don't ask me how or why it works; it just does. A good friend showed me this a while back in basic training." _

_When Shepard nodded her satisfaction, Garrus lifted himself over their cover and launched one of the claymores as far as he could. Shepard excitedly joined him, waiting for the resulting explosion from his modified bomb. Husk limbs flew up in the air, and when Garrus looked back down at her, he smiled at how peaceful he felt amidst all the chaos._

.vVv.

Night time in the Vakarian household was the epitome of pain. Children screaming, objects being thrown across the room…

Oh. It was actually just one young Turian child, with the screeching voice of a thousand banshees and the throwing strength of a major league pitcher. Garrus chuckled quietly to himself as he remembered the peculiar Earth sport that had been thoroughly described to him a while back. He had listened carefully at first, but became distracted by the storyteller's wonderfully plump lips, the slightest hint of wrinkles that appeared in the corners of her eyes when she smiled, the waving of her arms when she found out he wasn't listening-

He winced as a small hand snapped him out of his memories with a yank of his fringe. The Turian woman next to him gasped and grabbed her angry child and held him at eye level. With a cool voice, she calmly reprimanded the baby.

"Sweets, if you don't stop crying, I will give you a very good reason to cry about. Leave Uncle Garrus alone and get under the covers." As if by pure magic, the demon baby obeyed, but not without eyeing the fringe he had just had once more. Garrus shivered and carefully patted the baby's forehead before rushing out of the room.

"Just what is wrong with you, Garrus? You act like he's going to eat you alive or something." Watching the woman leave the room without a child tailing behind her, he relaxed and slumped into one of the chairs in the living area.

"You know I don't like people touching my fringe."

"and the exception is…?"

"Solana, I'm fine with a _lover_ doing what she will with sweet touches. But children aren't in tune with the same level of care."

Solana sat in a chair opposite of Garrus, rubbing her mandible in thought. "Right, because children _definitely_ 'accidentally' hurt you out of malice."

A scoff rumbled in Garrus's throat as he leaned his head into the backing of the chair. His mind was elsewhere, thinking of people he missed and battles he'd won. It was odd to be remembering all of this tonight, when he had other things that he needed to attend to.

Solana reached for her glass on the table and sat back into the chair once more, sipping at the cup's contents. She watched the man in front of her, and narrowed her eyes upon noticing his detached demeanor.

"Alright, why did you _really_ come to visit." She stated, showing her suspicion through the lack of inflection with her inquiry. Garrus sighed and looked at her, nonchalantly studying the woman's face, realizing that she was serious, and that he needed to come clean.

"I came here to talk to dad. The Saren threat is over, and I would like to get back to focusing on what's important for a Turian."

Confusion met Solana's features. "What's important for a Turian, huh? Since when did you ever care about that? Did something happen?"

"No, I just…feel like I need to make amends with my family. Dad was very upset that I left C-Sec so quickly, on such a crazy whim of an idea – to save the galaxy. They want me to come back anyway, so I might as well try to fix things between dad and I." He rubbed and scratched his fringe nervously, averting his eyes from Solana's intense gaze. She could read him like a book, and he almost wished he hadn't come back.

"Look, Garrus. I'm your sister and I know you better than you think I do. You haven't spoken to us in a very long time. What makes you think Dad is ready for something like this? You really hurt him, you know."

"He hurt me by not supporting what I did. But you don't see me crying about it." Mandibles slapped shut against Garrus's mouth when he realized what he had just said. He shifted uneasily in his seat, adjusting the slip cover underneath him. When he looked back at his sister, she was staring at him with a fire in her eyes. He knew he had gone a bit too far, but what did she know? Hell, if she was anything like her brother, she would have done the same thing Garrus did if she were in the position. Saving the Galaxy was a hell of a job, and when someone asks you to do it, it isn't something that can simply be turned down. What would it have said about his character if he told Shepard that he didn't have the time to continue his investigation simply because the Executor told him it wasn't allowed? If anything, someone telling him he couldn't do something sparked the rebellious nature in him and pushed him to shoot for the impossible. Garrus shook away his mental monologue and brought himself back.

The encounter that he would inevitably have with his father would not be about why he left in such a rush, but rather why he decided to come back.

"So? Why did you decide to come back? And don't give me any of this 'I want to be a better Turian' bullshit. Like I said, I know you a lot better than you think; and I happen to know that you aren't concerned about becoming a better member of our species." Solana tapped her sharpened talons on the arm of the chair, directing Garrus's subconscious to wonder about how she kept her talons so sharp around her young child. He watched them snap a few times impatiently to grab his attention once more.

"I uhh… I might have something else that I need to talk to him about; but don't get me wrong, I still want to fix things." He once again shifted uncomfortably in his chair, becoming painfully aware of Solana's eyes drilling holes into his once stoic mask. He felt just as he had when he was a young Turian teenager, stepping up to the podium to accept his graduate reward and entrance into the life of a C-Sec officer. The only difference was that he had a reason to be ridiculously nervous at that time since there were hundreds of people in the crowd watching him. But here he was, in front of one person who was taking her time in studying him; letting him know with her silence that she knew _everything_.

Before he could continue his thoughts of jumping out the window quickly to escape this hellish torture, he heard the silent observer speak the words that he never thought he would hear from any other mouth than his own.

"You love Shepard, don't you?" A smirk made its way onto her thin, plated face in the form of outstretched mandibles as she watched her brother shrink down in his seat, defeated. She continued without hesitation to allow him the opportunity to regain his composure.

"I mean, it isn't news to me. I've been trying to figure out for quite some time who exactly it was that you had devoted your heart to. In fact, I tried to even look you up in C-Sec databases to see if they had that kind of personal information on your file."

Garrus gaped at her incredulously.

"You can't blame me, Garrus. I wasn't satisfied with the answer of 'he left because he needed to help stop a rogue Spectre' when I asked dad about his fight with you. I knew there had to be some other reason…and it looks like I was spot on with that one." She swirled the liquid in her glass before taking the final gulp.

As if fate decided to grant mercy on his soul, Garrus almost jumped at the short beeps of his visor. He had just received a message, and he clicked his mandibles with excitement. It was most likely from the very woman they were talking about, but her interruption was welcomed with open arms. Garrus held up a finger to his interrogator while he pulled up the display of his omnitool.

Solana watched with curiosity at the spectrum of expressions that washed over her sibling's face. She first saw nervous excitement when Shepard's name popped up on the omni screen. It warmed her heart to see him in such elation. But the feeling quickly deteriorated as Garrus's face seemed to melt into utter horror. Solana rushed out of her chair and stood behind him, peering into the holo-display on his arm.

'…_received reports of what we can only assume is Shepard's death with the destruction of the SSV Normandy – Alliance…'_

The glass dropped from Solana's now lifeless hand and shattered on the floor next to her feet. Neither one of the two flinched as they read the remainder of the short article with rising heartbeats. The hand that dropped the glass rose up to Solana's mouth, covering her shock. She felt tears well in the corners of her eyes for her brother, who was forced into mourning and informed of his lover's death through mere text on a screen. A small inkling of hope glimmered in her heart for him as she stepped over to the coffee table, fumbling with the remote to switch on the TV. Perhaps it was a hoax by some no-name tabloid trying to make a reputation for itself? It was certainly plausible, seeing as how Shepard was the most talked about person in the galaxy at the moment.

A Turian male appeared in the center of the display, rattling off facts about one 'SSV Normandy' and its many advanced components. He spoke of the quality engineering and the time and effort that was put into such a great machine; and that it will be remembered and looked upon as inspiration for ships to follow. Solana moved to turn off the display when Garrus's hand grabbed hers, stopping the action and forcing her to continue watching the reporter.

'While the Normandy has blueprints with which top researchers can continue building off of, the same cannot be said about its crew. Commander Shepard jettisoned much of the members off of the ship just before its destruction, despite leaving herself vulnerable in the process. Her body has not been found in the wreckage, and we can only make an educated guess, that the Commander gave her life for her crewmember's safety. Anti-terrorist forces are gathering in the citadel in a collective against violent acts such as this. In an attempt to lower the number of attacks, resources say…'

"Turn it off." Solana granted his wish and shut off the display, bringing quiet to the small living area once more.

.vVv.

The precession was small and humble; just as the Commander would have wanted. Green eyes scanned the environment around her with a calm and collected demeanor. She wasn't about to let the situation get the best of her, no matter how heart wrenching it was. Tears welled at her eyes and she bit her lip in an attempt at stopping their fall. Her hand shook the pen it was holding, preventing her from writing in any names of the people that passed by her. She relinquished her menial task and tossed the pen and paper to the side.

"I.D. please." The command came out in a dead, monotonous tone. The woman in front of her searched pockets for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she pulled out a pair of dogtags, labelling that she had been part of Shepard's squad prior to her assignment on the Normandy. After comparing them to the identification read out on the woman's omni tool, Chakwas nodded her inside and looked on to the next person awaiting entrance to the funeral.

* * *

Behind double doors, Wrex and Tali were seated next to eachother, the woman leaning her head on Wrex's shoulder plate. He had taken a sabbatical from his mercenary work to help prepare for the funeral. Upon seeing the young Quarian, heartstrings tore from the stress of a heavy sorrow; Wrex broke down. Tali came to him, wrapping her frail arms around his large cowl of a neck, patting and rubbing comfort into his shaking shoulders.

Wrex had always taken pride in his relationship with Shepard. As he angrily wiped his face with his free arm, he remembered all the times they fought. Shepard might have been a human, but as the crew's time with her went on, it became clear that she had incorporated so much of every species into herself. When she was angry, she was Krogan. When she was logical and reasonable, she was Quarian. When she needed inner strength to overcome any turmoil and lead her crew, she was Turian. Her combined traits and personality garnered from her beloved crew was not only a testament of her love for them, it showed them how high she carried herself in order to carry the rest of her team.

There were only three steps that led up to the small podium at the front of the room, but to Wrex, climbing them felt like an eternity. Head clouded and eyes misty, he reached center stage and waited for everyone's attention.

"In battles past, I was a strong Krogan. In wars fought, in skirmishes won, I was a strong Krogan. I didn't need anyone's help, for I had my own muscle. Then Shepard appeared. She was a strong Human. In battles past, and wars fought, she was strong and unfaltering. Her spirit in the face of adversity could cause even the toughest of Krogan to hesitate. But even after meeting her, I was still a strong, independent Krogan. I didn't need the help of a mere human. But she changed that for me."

A pause and a deep breath. A glance to Tali, who smiled at him through a tearful face of reassurance.

"Today, I am a weak Krogan. Though I didn't ever need anyone's help before, I stand at this small podium, needing Shepard's help once more. She helped and guided me even when I refused her offer. She lead me like a true Krogan leader would. She showed me my true potential as a warrior. But today, without my commander, I am lost. I will get better, as we all will. But I feel the need to stop all of the universe, to tell all the worlds that we are about to let go of one of the greatest beings I have ever known. The only way I can think of honoring her, is to return the help that she gave to us. We will help her today to move on to the void of the afterlife, and then we will help others. As Shepard would have given her all to lead the meek and unable, so will her crew in the wake of her passing. Please join me in silence for Commander Shepard."

The solemn speeches continued, until the remaining speech givers were nowhere to be seen. Without missing a beat, military personnel took turns stepping to the podium to place various metals of recognition on Shepard's casket. Eventually, the room was emptied of visitors, leaving only a select few standing at the front. It was Dr. Chakwas's voice that filled the room in an almost ghostly echo first.

"Where could she be?" Misty eyes darted to and from each body as the unanswered question wafted around them in a stale fog.

"I…My people have calculated the options of her trajectory. She could have either been flung into space, into the nearby planet, or…" Tali was unable to finish the sentence with the only option that everyone already knew was most likely. There was no way Shepard's body could have survived the explosion of the Normandy's engines.

.vVv.

Chorra's Den was still a shithole. For some reason, Garrus remembered it as a little bit…nicer? No, that wasn't the right word. Friendlier? Maybe. He rubbed at his heavy eyelids in an attempt to stay awake. Reaching his goal was proving to be a bit harder than expected, but he wasn't about to let sleepiness botch his attempts. He took a deep swig of the garbage juice in his cup and nearly vomited. Eyeing the bartender who was staring at him disgustedly, he forced down the rest of it and sloppily slid the glass back to him.

"Another." _Hesitation hmm? That's not a problem that I'll have to deal with when avenging Shepard._

Shepard. The world around him stopped moving, and the room faded to clouds and black smoke. Darkness seemed to swallow him whole as his vision closed around his periphery. There was no light at the end of this tunnel though, and Garrus suddenly felt like he was falling; falling further and further into hell. What was he doing here? A small voice echoed in the recesses of his mind. It told him that he was being illogical – that drinking wouldn't solve the problem. He laughed. What problem? Problems truly are problems only when you make them out to be so. They only thing he cared about was drinking enough to black out; and that was hardly the most important 'problem' out there.

"I said, _another_." His teeth grinded together as anger surged behind his eyes. Then, a tap at his shoulder. _It must be that incessant voice, come to try to convince me of my problem_. Another tap. That one felt oddly real. He swatted at it, closing his eyes and willing for his conscience to leave him alone for once. Hands grabbed at his shoulders and arms, dragging him hurriedly out of his chair. No amount of slurred protest from the drunk Turian made the hands stop. They pulled him out of the blaring bass of Chorra's Den and into the deserted alleyways. Garrus threw up acidic liquor everywhere as they moved quickly through doorways and around corners. With vomit on his chest, he succumbed to a chaotic slumber.

* * *

"Wakey, wakey." _Shepard?_

"Wake up, you idiot." The voice was angry, and it kicked him hard in his stomach. Or was that a foot? Either way, Garrus realized none too soon that it hurt like hell as stars swam around in his vision. The world was dizzy, his head was dizzy, so he expelled the contents of his stomach on the foot. He chuckled weakly at the sound of curses and yelling, stomping away to leave him in the dark room.

"You sure this was a good idea?"

"Stop your worrying. He's unbelievably drunk still, but he'll break."

"What do you even want with him?"

"I want him punished. Particularly, for his…transgressions against my being. Apparently this turian piece of shit thought it was okay to out me to C-Sec. We're gonna have fun torturing this son of a bitch."

"So, what? Phase 2? Might as well get started then."

"Yeah, but slight change in plans. That fucker got my shoes dirty."

.vVv.

Rohirik Vakarian paced in front of his desk pretending to be deeply in thought. What Garrus had just told him definitely matched the swollen plates on his face. He had been beaten badly. _But what can I do?_

"It was Harkin! Damn idiot didn't even cover his face. He _wanted_ me to know exactly who was beating me to a pulp." Garrus stared at his father's strained eyes, searching for some inkling of empathy.

Rohirik sighed and shook his head exasperatedly. "For the last time, Garrus, his alibi is solid. We don't have any other evide-"

"So let me get more! Save me the trouble of searching every house and just tell me where he is so I can find you some damn evidence."

The all too familiar stern look that came next made Garrus suddenly aware of the lump in his throat. He tried to gulp it down and folded his hands behind his back, feigning confidence.

"Dad, I know there are rules against this. But what he did obviously broke about five other regulations. I think it's more than okay at this point to break one regulation to bring in a man who broke many more."

"It isn't okay, Garrus. Do something right, and by the book or not at all. I don't want to have to continue repeating myself," Rohirik paused to work some stress out of his temples, "We can't just track him down and bring him in when he has already been questioned. His whereabouts have been confirmed at another location and the evidence that we do have is mediocre at bes-"

"My word isn't _enough_ for you?! My wounds aren't _enough_?"

Garrus could not believe it. When he was younger, his father was his idol. He looked up to Rohirik Vakarian as if he could do no wrong; commit no crime. His father had always been a man of the law and all of the words that described him were synonyms of "courageous" and "just". Yet as an adult standing before that same man, he no longer felt the fiery admiration he once did. It's amazing how a person can be exactly the same as they were two decades prior while still having changed so much.

"But it's not you that's changed…it's me." Garrus regretted those words only because they were true. He dropped his hands to his sides, limp with the dead weight of a terrible realization. His father had always stayed the same. As Garrus grew up under his tutelage, the older man had already passed the point in his life when one's character levels off and becomes stable in its current state. Every being with such short lives begin to subconsciously incorporate their remaining time into their character. They are likely never to change their ways, no matter how stubborn, until the day they die. It was with a heavy heart that Garrus uttered his parting words to his father.

"You know, when I was a child I thought you were righteous and just simply because you followed the law. Now I know that you were merely a coward who hid behind a false fence made of 'regulations' and 'policy'. Tell me father, is it okay to overlook evil for the sake of your job rather than follow your moral code no matter what? If the former is safe and secure, and the latter is reckless and death of your comfort…then I choose death."

"Garrus, wait!" Rohirik pounded his fists against the cold metal of his desk, but it was too late. The door to his office had closed, leaving him with only the echo of his son's voice ringing in his ear.


	8. SR8: Two of a Kind

_**In case you all were wondering, because I know everyone definitely cares about how successfully I can procrastinate with school work, I finally understand ME Kink Meme. Finally. It's everything I hoped and dreamed it would be. Now let's answer a couple of questions!**_

Are you going to be going into detail about these two years that Shepard is gone? _**Yes, although I won't be detailing ALL of it. Just the parts that matter to this story, which is actually the parts towards the end of the 2 years. There are some other very good fics about Garrus's squad so if you're curious, I suggest looking for those if you want a complete story arch just about him and his teammates.**_

Will there be hybrid babies?_** I…I'm not sure. That is a very good question. I don't think so for this particular story, but it is a possibility for some of my others that I have in the works.**_

_**As always, thank you to everyone that favorites, follows, reviews, and PMs. There is no story without anyone to write for. So while I lose myself for a bit in the wonderland that is the kink meme, enjoy this next chapter. **_

.vVv.

Garrus absolutely, undeniably, unmistakably hated Sidonis. While it was true that some part of him deep down in his heart knew that he loved the brash turian like his own brother, the fact of the matter remained that Lantar Sidonis broke the rule. They had made a pact when forming their ridiculous entourage to never fall for a woman, or allow their brethren to do so. It was an easy way for Garrus to keep his romantic interests to himself and not have to worry about his crew butting in as they always proved to do. Other purposes were served of course, the most obvious being that the members of their team were less likely to be distracted from their righteous duties. Protecting innocents from all forms of malicious exploitation was hard enough without amorous thoughts clouding their better judgment.

Sidonis eyed his brother with a sneaky, slanted gaze. He was a demon; the demon-spirit of _love_, come to deliver his dear teammate into the insufferable arms of romantic debauchery…or something like that_._ Garrus could only roll his eyes.

"For the last time, Sidonis. I will not go on this date." His answer was firm and steady. Hands moved in agreement with a fluid motion across his trusted rifle, cleaning its ornate grooves and polishing the surface. Truth be told, this was Garrus's way of avoiding eye contact with the blasted turian in front of him. That nincompoop had strolled right into the room, bouquet and note in hand, loudly announcing that the blind date was successfully booked and that Garrus was going to be late if he didn't leave right that moment. A completely slack jaw was the only response to that unwarranted intrusion, causing Sidonis to only gain momentum. His mandibles remained stretched on his face, showing off the bright sheen of teeth in the damndest smile any turian ever gave. He tiptoed gently towards his gloomy figurehead, waving the bouquet lightly in the air and wiping the strong perfume from the note all over Garrus's face.

"Ftop it Phidoniph." A rumble of laughter erupted from the chipper male but he did as he was told. With a light 'humph' he sat next to the ever serious Vakarian. The silence between them grew stale and awkward, though it was still not enough to remove the grin from Lantar's wily face.

"I _am_ leaving right this second…"Garrus started as he proceeded to dismantle the now perfectly gleaming weapon. "…just not somewhere you want me to go." The light in the room seemed to dim with the drooping face of Garrus's friend. Hell, the flowers even seemed to wilt a little.

"You promised us you wouldn't ever go back there. Do you want another incident?" Sidonis's previously happy voice was now a firm growl, ringing dangerously close to the same frequency as his father. Garrus was annoyed. He let it show with the exaggerated motions of his arms when tossing various pieces of equipment into his bag. No answer was given, as it seemed none was needed. They both knew with the silence that followed what the response would be. Sidonis stood and threw the flowers into the trash bin. When he reached the door he paused and opened his mouth to speak. Garrus waited, mentally screaming at his friend to wait, don't go, please stop me from leaving! But the pleading never came; the friend turned his back to the room and left without another word.

.vVv.

Sidonis paced up and down the kitchen. Weaver was concerned that he would wear tracks into the flooring if he didn't stop. He had to say something. Anything. Just a word, one word. One word to make Lantar discontinue that incessant step, step, step. Maybe if he said something to someone else. Why was everyone so quiet, anyway? Garrus was gone, but that was normal now and everyone should be used to it. Weaver was used to it, so the others should be too. But they weren't. Aren't. Everyone around him sat, still as stones. Everyone except for Sidonis.

"Weaver!" The woman's voice was loud, but crystal clear. Weaver took in a breath, and relaxed his eyes. He felt the woman seat herself at his right and place a gentle hand on his tensed arm. She rubbed softly and the strain went away, the tension easing out of his temples. He breathed out and opened his eyes to rest on his partner.

"Melenis, why are you all so tense as well?" Weaver was worried for his friends. He could see her initial confusion from her blue brows curling together at the middle in that cute way. Then her mouth twitched and pursed together. This meant she was thinking. Her eyebrows raised and rested in their naturally arched state; that meant a lightbulb.

"We are tense because of Garrus. Lantar only paces when he is stressed. And usually, he is only ever stressed when Garrus doesn't listen to him." The asari woman concluded from the ever continuous pacing of their teammate. Sidonis didn't stop even while he snapped at them.

"How can you all just sit here?!" Weaver watched as the turian angrily threw his arms in the air. That meant frustration. Sidonis continued on the same rant he always made when Garrus left the stronghold. It wasn't easy for Sidonis or the team to watch their leader break as he did, but there was nothing they could do but try to distract him from his ghosts while he was home. Melenis reached for Weaver's hand. He could feel her anxiety building. He could feel everyone's uneasiness.

He decided Sidonis should go. "Sidonis. You should find him. Bring him back. Nothing feels right about this day." He squeezed Melenis's hand for comfort as they both watched the turian leave hastily after grabbing his bag. Now all they had to do was wait.

.vVv.

Garrus trudged sloppily out of a dirty bathroom and into the nearest seat he could find. It was a booth tucked in to the corner of the bar, away from the noise and the yelling, but still close enough to have it as a nice background. When he was home, it was too quiet for him. Ironic though, that the silence in his life was always the loudest. It was loud enough to drown out every other sound. Music didn't help, his mind would simply be overtaken and he would zone himself out in thought. That was why he needed to leave; because staying in the stronghold kept him feeling guilty. Guilty for dragging those poor sods down with him, guilty for making them love him and then letting them down, and most of all guilty for not saving Shepard.

His fists balled and he dropped his head to rest on the table. Garrus was too drunk to be changing the orientation of his equilibrium though, and the dizziness that followed almost made him hurl again. But he persisted, not wanting to look anywhere else except to the darkness of his own shadow on the table. This wasn't life. Drinking by day and murdering by night. That's what he did, he murdered. Mercenaries, criminals, traitors, scum. They all deserved it, but is this what Shepard would have done? Would she feel the same as he did, in that they needed only death to atone for their sins?

Beyond the suffocating silence in his guilty conscience, he felt a light breeze from a figure across from him. Someone had seated themselves at his table, but he didn't care. His eyes stayed shut while his mind continued to race through thought after thought, each one berating and belittling him for his actions. And what of his teammates? They had become his family, as it now felt like Omega was his home world before Palaven. Since when did he care so little that it mattered not how he left them alone each day? His team told him always that he did good work, that he deserved to be their leader and they would follow him into the depths of hell. But did they even realize he was already there?

The clinking of multiple glasses bounded slowly to his ears, as if the sound was echoing through water. He needed to attempt moving his head up to see what the commotion was about. Garrus came to this accursed place to be alone with his thoughts, so it was a problem that someone deemed it necessary to invade his personal space.

He was annoyed to say the least. "I don't remember asking for an escort." He drawled out when he laid eyes on his visitor. It was a female turian, almost regal looking with her elaborate facial markings. Most likely from a Heliad clan. They were famous for using many different colors on their faces in honor of their dying star, which of course shined brightly in a prismatic fashion. Hers were no different, they almost seemed neon in the dim lighting of the bar. Then again, Garrus was extremely drunk. He could be hallucinating for all he knew. Proving him wrong (unless he was imagining the glasses as well), the woman slid one of the drinks over to him. He smelled it; water. Who does she think she is?

"Just drink it. I'd have thought you were dead if not for your terrible body odor." Great, not only is she a busy-body, she's also a comedian. Either that or awfully honest. Neither of those were appealing to him at the moment. But drunken stupidity was realized in him when he discovered how thirsty he was. He set the glass back down and sank into the back of the metal chair. Eyes closed and stomach no longer queasy, he was able to think about the situation.

First things first. "If you aren't an escort…I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. You can repay me by ordering a drink for me. It's been quite a while since I've been as wrecked as you, and I've had a rough week." She flicked out her left mandible in a sly smirk. Garrus shifted to sit up a little taller. She was pretty, in a unique way. Her markings were definitely a bit much for his taste, but it helped pronounce her features and bones. Her neck was slim and..sparkly? Then he remembered his mother used to wear a special type of lotion that smelled of lilacs and glinted with small flecks of glitter in the sunlight. That was different though, his mother's sheen made her appear a powerful goddess while this woman's sparkle made her look exotic and perhaps a bit fearless. 'Mischevious' he settled with while clearing his throat.

"Why is it that I'm always interrupted in grimy bars by strange women in combat suits?"

"Oh, was I interrupting you? A midday meditation session. I should try that sometime to ease the stress of battle."

Okay, so she was a little funny. But Garrus wasn't in the mood for flirting, and he was drunk. The chances of her having even a fraction of her comedic nature outside of a bar was low. He waved down a waiter and motioned for the woman to order her choice. It was the polite thing to do. Interesting how he did not plan on being polite when he first arrived.

Garrus stared hard at her glittery skin and wondered what fragrance this one might be sporting. "You going to tell me your name, or will I have to make something up?" He grinned when she chuckled and relaxed his shoulders. He was in.

Eyes amused, she reached out a hand over the table to him. "My name is Neeva. But what would you have called me instead?"

A sly smirk found its way onto Garrus's face before he took a gamble with his answer. "Honestly, I would have probably continued to refer to you as an escort."

"That's rather rude to say to someone who might have saved your life. A little hydration goes a long way."

"Maybe that was the idea when I didn't order any water with my liquor." He stopped. Carrying baggage doesn't make you popular, so why was he revealing so much? His eyes darted to her chest plate.

"Like what you see?" She was watching him carefully when he made eye contact again. Garrus didn't feel the slightest bit ashamed. He was drunk, and he needed an outlet. Looks like he found his prey.

* * *

They had barely slipped out the back door without ravaging each other completely. Garrus pushed Neeva's slender body into the wall outside. With barely any light to see, he had to depend on mostly feeling and smell to find her. But once his fingers reached the tiny waist under her voluptuous chest he made sure not to let go. It didn't seem like Neeva minded it either because with her back against the wall, she opened her body up to him as she stretched her arms to her sides. Garrus filled the spaces in between with hands moving up and down along her stomach while his teeth set to work on harshly biting and tasting the sparkling flesh underneath pronounced mandibles. He felt a familiar vibration from the depths of her chest and throat and lost himself to primal instinct on the similar form.

She was his kind, and he didn't need to think for this. Everything he did to her was purely muscle memory from lovers past, but it worked on the both of them. While the woman writhed and hummed from his savory touches, his own subvocals growled with lust. A few buttons that fastened her trousers together were easily ripped apart and the pieces of leg armor that they in turn held were forgotten on the dirty ground. With a mind full of only want and need and hunger, Garrus penetrated her quickly and deeply. Neeva cried out with a full flurry of vocals and clawed at his shoulder plates for more. He felt as if he couldn't thrust hard enough. His hips jerked to move his own throbbing member further and further inside of her until he was completely buried. He could stay inside for only a moment before needing to back out and push in hard again for the friction. His prey's body was completely at his mercy, and he realized that he loved and hated it.

Loved it because he needed this. Garrus had needed some form of unhindered release. Finding a Turian woman was perfect. But he hated it because each thrust into her brought with it a mix of pain and pleasure. The seared heart that he had closed off was being stabbed, over and over, seemingly crying out in the form of guilty twinges. Before long, he had pushed his face into the crook of Neeva's neck and bit down on her shoulder while he continued to force pleasure onto his mangled soul. She was purring and moaning in ecstasy from the bite, but he didn't do it for her. He wanted to cry; wanted to shove this strange creature off of him and scream into her face that she wasn't Shepard. The only woman he had wanted to be with was Shepard. She was the only woman he will have ever truly bonded with, and here he is, betraying that bond for another one night stand.

Garrus released his jaw from the woman's neck as he bit his own tongue to stop from yelling something crazy. In a few more thrusts, he growled deeply and pulled himself away from her at the last second. His throbbing cock shot out months of pent up anger and despair, guilt and anguish. The ground below the pair was covered in both party's liquids, mocking him and reminding him of his weakness. Garrus reached over for Neeva's shin guards. When she grabbed them from his limp hands, he left her alone in the alleyway, staring after his shrinking figure.

.vVv.

Sidonis was lost. Of course he would never admit it though, not even to himself. So he pressed on diligently in the direction he thought to be correct. Feeling less and less confident in his inner compass, he began to slow his pace. Every corner was approached with caution before being taken as slowly as possible. Checking a multitude of paths at crossroads became standard practice, in spite of it being a waste of time. Sidonis had absolutely no idea which way Garrus had taken him so long ago. It had been weeks since he accompanied his partner to see just where he had been spending his time. When he discovered it was a tattered and dinghy bar, he had been furious and left in a rush only to arrive back home. Feeling guilty for leaving his friend wasn't enough, as he had forgotten the way there in his rage. Now, he wasn't angry; he was just worried.

Sidonis always knew in his mind that Garrus had been treading on a fine line centered right between moving on, or holding on. He didn't need the broken turian to describe to him what it felt like; he empathized through experience, the most effective way to understand. But simply telling him that wasn't enough. Although these days it seemed there wasn't anything that could help him now. Garrus had begun throwing himself into his work. When he wasn't planning counterattacks for merc hits in residential districts, he was leading an infiltration unit with part of the squad, ordering a few of them to create blocks and holds to slow down illegal trafficking. And when it wasn't work, it was drinking.

The crew knew his schedules, therefore refused to give up on him. They had all gotten together and planned a trip for the whole squad after pay day. It was the perfect chance to remove Garrus from the poisonous world they seemed stuck in. He could have a week to relax, sleep, and perhaps feel happy, if only for a short while. But he had discovered their secret in an unsavory situation. Sidonis had been the one to let it slip during an argument. He had called Garrus inconsiderate and selfish. The fact that the only things their crew ever heard from their leader anymore was not words of encouragement, but words of disappointment were more than enough justification. There was always something that could have been done better. So Sidonis was mad, but could he be blamed?

He had spat out a few distasteful words before branding him a rotten drill seargant.

"_All we want to ever do is make you happy! We give and give everything we have for you, and still you want more. Butler has a wife and daughter who he barely has time to see anymore since you've had us bending over backwards to fight an unwinnable war. You think Omega's gravity wells are powered by your own fresh need for justice? What kind of justice is it then that we are putting our shares towards a vacation for you, and you tell us that we should spend our money on furthering our exploits of mercenaries?" _

Sidonis blinked and inwardly cringed as the flashbacks played on. He didn't regret his words, but he regretted laying sight to Garrus's face. As he rounded another unknown corner he saw with his memory's eye, his friend's reaction. Dull eyes grew darker, and drawn mandibles pulled tightly against a tense jaw.

"_We don't have time for vacations, Sidonis. All of you; we need to make big moves now that we have the funds to do so. For almost two years now, we've been taking part in a child's game with these merc idiots. If we can hit them where it counts, it can all be over. Innocent people won't have to die, and before long, each criminal will pay. No more red tape to stop us. No more waiting around."_

"_So that's it." Sidonis drew in a breath, too tired now to pursue frustration. "After all of that, you don't even give an apology. What good is it to force your hand when you're outnumbered? You'll only come out on the losing end after you've lost everyone close to you, Garrus. And maybe then you'll learn."_

In a flash, Sidonis awoke from his daydream by smacking into a very daunting and angry looking batarian. He smelled of a crude mixture of sulfur and liquor and Sidonis would have gagged from it if he hadn't been scared witless. The batarian wasn't alone, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that the batarian wasn't some ordinary drunkard; he was Blue Suns.

The batarian grabbed for the stunned Sidonis, lifting him easily onto his feet and slamming him against the wall. "Look what fell into my lap boys. It's like uhh…Rick what's that one day where you idiots get presents and shit?" All four eyes on the batarian's head shifted towards the only human male in the group for a second in search of an answer. When they fell back on Sidonis they were aglow with a dark reddish hue. Or was it that neon sign overhead? Whatever cast such an eerie light on him, it was unnerving to say the least.

"Brass, what in the hell are you on about…you mean Christmas?"

"Yeah! It's like Christmas today." The alien's grip on Sidonis's neck tightened, closing the space on his neck and cutting off access to precious oxygen. Brass then leaned uncomfortably close to his victim's face and whispered, "It's like Christmas because I know exactly who you are, and you're about to be a gift for the boss."

.vVv.

_Has Archangel even done anything significant?_

The question repeated itself over and over in Garrus's dizzy head until he finally stopped. His feet had carried him to a lookout, a private over hang with a perfectly unobstructed view of Omega's mining towers. The railing was the perfect height for a drunkard to lean on; just low enough to comfortably rest arms on and just high enough to prevent a fall. The view was breathtaking, but he found himself in a mournful state. Bittersweet memories of the first night he met his one love on the Citadel. She had been glowing with beauty and tipsy with too much alcohol, but beautiful none the less. That was the night that he had changed his way of thinking.

Before he met her, he hadn't been a being of understanding in the interspecies relationships that dotted the population of the Citadel. Making rounds as a C-Sec officer and spotting couples of different build and sometimes, different language; it was all so strange to him. Turians were the only ones that he had found attractive and he knew it would never change. Until Jane Shepard came into his life. He remembered with a fond smile that he hadn't even wanted to have anything to do with the woman when she sat in that chair across from him. But she turned out to be everything he loved in a female. She was strong and fearless, yet feminine and beautiful. As he had gotten to know her under her command, he realized that every part of her personality and body was something that he found astounding and attractive. She was the embodiment of the perfect woman, and now she was no more.

Garrus laid his face in his hands and cried silently as he remembered the exact feeling of her delicate hands on his mandibles. How could it be that he was the only one losing himself after her death? The rest of their crew had mourned and moved on. Yet here he was, crying over the side of a ledge, alone and cold with nothing to show for any of his accomplishments. They meant nothing without Shepard. And with her departure from the living, she took with her a piece of him. He knew he could never feel whole again. He would continue to make friends, attract people with similar ambitions, but it would never help.

He lifted his head and studied the view. From where he stood, he felt powerless. Perhaps that was the sad truth about this forsaken place. Even from an almost omnipotent vantage point, his blurry vision had corrected itself and he saw that Omega still looked like a pile of shit. The towers were impressive, but that didn't mean that it was also pretty. It was an industrial hell hole, made for the poorest of the poor, grown with the dirty money of cheaters and thieves, and sustained with the blood and tears of the tired and hungry. Garrus noticed the ugliness of the place. The walls were covered in fixed cracks and stains, rust and discolored metal from various fumes. Machinery littered the streets and alleys, and the windows in the residential districts hardly served their purpose. Everything was filthy and disgusting, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Garrus realized the hopelessness of his self driven mission. "Is this some sort of lesson from the spirits? Shepard died, but her holy and benevolently merciful ghost haunts me always." He had taken to imagining what Shepard would say to him if she were there to see what he did.

"_I don't think fucking out your frustrations is a good idea. You might get addicted to it like you did with me."_

"She would say that. It seems so like her; rather than being sensitive and focusing on the sex, she would imply that I'm being stupid, hiding it within a joke and leaving it to me to get the idea. I never thought I would like to be scolded with dry humour…" He chuckled to no one in particular after voicing his thoughts. Damn, he missed her so much that it hurt.

He reached for his pack and pulled out the shining gun. Bought from a friend on the Citadel, it had become the most reliable weapon he had ever used. He slowly pieced it together as he admired the reflective surface and savored the paint that marked its model. With the scope secured in no time, he lifted the heavy machine to his eye. Garrus resolved to discontinue thought of his lost lover for tonight. Though he set aside time every day to remember and think on her in bitter sweet memory, the image couldn't be held for very long. Too much hurt and he would never get over that damn woman. Of course she would frustrate him like this in her afterlife.

The scope opened his eyes to just how shitty Oemga really was. Eveything he knew about its hideous nature was simply magnified times three. Then he stopped at a window. His eyes widened as he stared through the magnification lens at a man in blue armor removing his helmet. Garrus was so shocked at his discovery that he almost slid his damn gun over the edge of the railing from leaning into the scope too much. He knew he didn't have time to spare, so while he loaded a bullet into the chamber he thanked the Spirits for remembering him, mentally hugged and kissed Shepard's glorious face in elation, and high fived Sidonis for this soon to be victory. Taking aim once more, he took in a deep breath to steady his arms and shot the lone bullet towards Tarak's vulnerable head.


	9. SR9: The Lives of the Few

_**I've had a lot of great feedback from everyone since the last chapter. This next one is...well just read it, and I hope you like it. I'm personally happy with how it's turning out. **_

The "bite" mark. Is that not, most of the FF's I read, a sign of bonding? Will it come back to kick Garrus in the butt when he is finally with Shepard? _**Awesome question. Just want to address to everyone else that I do reveal a little bit more about that in this chapter, so read on!**_

Will Garrus confess to Jane about his getting strayed during her death? **_mm mm mm, can't tell you that yet, now can I?_**

**_I also had some feedback about reading from other characters' povs. I experimented with that in this chapter because it seemed like some good opportunities to try. Let me know what you all think!_**

.vVv.

_"I fought hard for you, Shepard. I hope it was enough." A pearlescent, blue hand touched clear glass gently. Tears glistened shamelessly down Liara's already stained cheeks. Her heart ached in her chest for the corpse behind the glass. 108 years was apparently not long enough for a mind to figure out how to cope with the loss of a loved one. Liara T'Soni had attempted to prepare herself for this moment almost every day since the funeral. The cask had been empty, and she had known in her heart that she would be the one to find the body. None of the others seemed like they would try, so it was only natural that she take the mantle. Even if it hadn't originally been intended by the great hand of fate, she had twisted it; forced and willed it to happen._

_It had been strange, donning her combat gear again for the first time after Shepard's passing. Only a month had gone by before she was contacted by an old friend, Satevia. The hacker's words were short and simple, yet meant the world to Liara: "I found Shepard." The time that followed was a blur of fast paced chasing and running and fighting. When she first saw Jane's mangled body in a stasis pod, her heart lurched and every emotion filled her body as her mind exploded in an ecstatic flurry of electricity. All she could reflect though was a sad smile. The fight that followed was brutally tiring and demanded everything of Liara. She spent the entire day running back and forth, one room to the next; finding guards here, Blue Suns there, and Collectors in between._

_That was the frightening part. When she first encountered the collectors was when she truly doubted her ability to save Shepard. The pressure to succeed was almost unbearable, but she couldn't give up. Liara was fully prepared to die before she let the collectors have her Commander's body. Cerberus offered money for her help and she obliged quickly. Of course, it hadn't been for Cerberus or money. It was never about anything but getting Shepard back. She did it for selfish reasons. She needed Jane alive for herself, for everyone. Yet here she was, about to hand her over to them. At least they weren't the Collectors._

_Liara closed her eyes in frustration and leaned her forehead into the glass barrier between herself and her best friend. She thought she was doing something great in recovering Shepard's body. Wasn't she? If she hadn't helped Cerberus, the Collectors likely would have been the ones with the prize. And it was unclear as to what exactly they needed it for; but that was the one thing that Liara shared with Cerberus. They both could only imagine what the Collectors would do, and wanted to instead preserve Shepard's legacy. At least that's what they told her. Regardless of any hidden motives, it was the only option._

_"You can stay for the project, if you wish. I'd be honored to work with a decorated Asari scientist." Liara's eyes creaked open and she smiled before moving her eyes to rest on Shepard's corpse. Tears welled once more, but she swallowed the urge and fought to keep her voice steady._

_"It was lucky the Blue Suns had a camp where she landed. I…I hope I am doing the right thing." A hand rested on her shoulder, tense but warm and comforting nonetheless. Miranda Lawson might have been working for Cerberus, but she was a friend through their shared journey. Liara struggled to find the words to describe how badly she wanted Shepard alive again. But there was no need to; Miranda had already explained the Lazarus project to her in great detail. While it had a high chance of failing, there was still that small chance that it would succeed and Jane would be back. Liara had to take what she could get, even if it meant leaving it in Miranda's hands alone._

_She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I cannot stay, Miranda. But I implore you with every fiber of my being to please succeed. Don't make our work for nothing."_

_"I'll do as best as physically possible of me. I take pride in my reconstructive work, and I've had a lot of practice. I can keep you updated if you'd like?"_

_Liara's heart jumped at the thought. To read regular documentation on Shepard's status? It was perfect. "Just don't get into trouble with the Illusive Man. But I would really appreciate any news you can give me in these next years."_

_Miranda laughed lightly and looked towards the body. It was unmoving, but it held promising shades of red life beneath the charred surface. "There's a chance that she might not be the same. I hope you realize. She's dead to us but…no one really knows how much of the human stays behind after the physical signs of life have ceased. She could be completely normal if we succeed, or she could simply wake up a husk of Shepard. I'll do the best I can, but are you really alright with this sort of gamble?" The thought of Shepard not being herself was daunting, but living without having even tried would be a plague onto Liara's mind._

_"At this point, I'm willing to try anything. And I know a few others who might feel the same way." Liara paused and reached for the pack of her belongings. "I'll contact you when I am settled in my new position. Let me make sure I am in a safe place to keep in contact with you."_

_"Still going after the Shadow Broker? He is a business man, you know, and a damn good one. Just because he made a few mistakes and let you take his merchandise doesn't mean he'll make another one in keeping you away."_

_It was a sinking feeling that dropped into the pit of Liara's stomach. She had thought about the consequences of what she planned to do many nights. But like saving Shepard, killing the Broker who had planned to sell her in the first place was simply something that had to be done. Liara resolved again that she would die before she failed at this._

_"Then I'll just have to force his hand one more time. What happens when you use all your cards?"_

_Miranda smiled and winked at the asari, extending a hand out to her. "Well, you lose the game of course. Good luck."_

.vVv.

"Where's Sidonis?" Garrus dropped his bag and helmet on the floor next to the door upon entering and noting that the turian in question seemed to be absent. He had great news, and he wanted everyone to be there for it. Upon searching his crew member's faces, he turned up empty. He received one of two responses from everyone, a head shaking to indicate negative and a few who rang back an "I don't know." Weaver was the last to answer him, raising his voice to reach him from the far side of the room.

"I suggested that he go and look for you. You worry us when you leave on your stints to the bar Garrus." Looks of anticipation darted around the room, hoping to avoid a confrontation. Garrus waved his hand to dismiss the tension. "I'll look for him in a bit. But first. I shot someone…someone important."

"You shot _who_?"

"Tarak. I got incredibly lucky and by some unbelievable miracle, saw him through his window. I had to try; what other choice did I have?"

Truly, it was a feat for the ages. None of the squad thought they would be able to score a hit so far up the chain of command without spending a ridiculous amount of money. Since Tarak was the current leader of the Blue Suns and infamous thorn in the squad's side, Garrus's hit on him was a major victory. Of course it was Tarak who held the highest statistic of exported illegal substances. There wasn't a doubt in Vakarian's mind that this shot was not only a blow to the ringleader's over inflated ego, but also to their exports.

Butler caught on quickly to that same fact. "Chances are, Tarak will be pissed. Since you only clipped his shoulder, he's likely to be more furious that anything. His defenses will double only from pulling guard away from the exports."

"And that's when we strike. This gives the perfect opportunity to sabotage his latest shipment. We know that this one is big, we've been hearing about it all over the damn sub networks. If we're successful, he'll lose half a million credits." Garrus flared his mandibles in a triumphant smile, one he hadn't shown since the very first time they took out one of Tarak's shipments a year and a half ago. It was short lived though, as Garrus fixed his gaze on Weaver, seated at the kitchen counter with hands folded in front of his face. The salarian had always been hard to read if anyone's attention to detail was subpar. There did exist small clues however, that gave away his thoughts. Today, the slightly felled eyelids, stiff arms, and tensed neck muscles showed that he was irritated. Perhaps a bit worried even.

While the others chatted amongst themselves about the day, Garrus excused himself from the group and made his way towards Weaver. Garrus had found the explosives expert disabling a modified bomb in a lower residential area. Families were in danger, and Weaver made it clear that death was not something he could simply let happen if it was within his power to prevent it. Turian and salarian paired up, Garrus fending off snarling Vorcha and Weaver focusing all of his attention on the complicated inner workings of the devise. They realized after the job was done that they made a good team, and exchanged call tags for the future. Neither expected it when Sidonis found Weaver after his partnership was formed with Garrus. But the salarian was happy to join, and glad that he knew both parties from prior meetings. Knowing Weaver for as long as he did, Garrus felt a connection with him. It had become apparent to everyone that neither of the two liked sharing the details of their mental processes with anyone else. The exception being Sidonis of course; that turian had a way of getting anyone to share anything with him.

"I'm no Sidonis, so I'm not all that great with words. But you look upset, Weaver. We've had a victory in our battle." The salarian sighed into his clasped hands and closed his eyes for a time, letting the sentence float around them. The noise of the crew opening bottles of liquor was a dull background to frame their success. But Weaver didn't like it.

"We might have won for now, but the war is just beginning. I don't feel happy right now because I know that we have a dark future ahead of us. Winning anything from now on will be like pulling out our own teeth." He opened his eyes and stared into Garrus's concerned face. Poor turians, always remember winning and forget losing. The best lessons are learned from failure. "I congratulate you, friend. But I hope you will think carefully about our actions in the near future. We cannot afford to make any mistakes, or take any risks. Tarak will try to make you pay for what you've done."

.vVv.

_Who is that? I've never seen her before. _

_Where am I even? Machines. Wires attached to my shoulders and knees. My stomach burns. I can't feel the rest of my body. Just the parts that have wires on them, I can feel those. Am I even breathing? I can't feel my lungs if I am. Do I even have shoulders and knees? How do I know that what I'm feeling is real?_

_Was that Liara? No, it was that woman. But I'm remembering Liara. She was right in front of me. _

_A man is here. He is confused, but I don't trust his voice. They are saying there was a mistake but I can feel my lungs now and they are breathing hard. The woman is angry and I can feel my heart now. Lungs and heart, burning, I feel like I'm on fire._

_Was I in fire before? I know how this feels and I hate it. I don't want to die, please don't let me die! The wires are stretching and cracking and I can no longer feel my knees and shoulders. Now it is just burning everywhere and the voices are panicked. They are yelling and grabbing at me. Do I have a body still? My brain hurts and I can no longer see. _

_I am calm again. I know only because everything feels still. If they are yelling, I cannot hear them. If I am on fire, I cannot feel it. If I am alive, I cannot see it._

_I think I am dead now. It feels like last time. I remember the first fire now, and it felt the same. _

.vVv.

It felt like days since Garrus had last been to the Endless Tap, the bar that spiraled him into his terrible habit of drowning in a mixture of his sorrows and cheap liquor. Even though it had only been this morning when Sidonis had attempted to stop him from leaving, the day had lasted and been drawn out with his own guilt. The walk to the bar was proving to be quite terrible, with Garrus's thoughts jumping back and forth between finding Sidonis and apologizing for not listening, and apologizing to Shepard for betraying her. It seemed to him that apologizing was a recurring theme in his life as of late. He stopped and glanced to his left in a small alcove under a larger dumpster. Two vorcha were loudly smacking their chops and tearing what appeared to be a pyjack carcass. Filthy beings. He continued on, knowing full well that he still had half a mile more to go before he reached the bar again.

_One thought at a time, Garrus._

He thought about Sidonis. The one turian who had become his best friend through all of this, was somewhere in these dim alleyways searching for him. He felt terrible for turning down Lantar's offer earlier. Perhaps he wouldn't have done the unthinkable with that…_woman_ had he simply taken that damn bouquet. Off track. Sidonis surely remembered the way to the bar, but if he didn't there would be little to no chance that they would run into each other. The District was huge and he could be anywhere by now.

As he neared the entrance to the tavern, he looked into one of the clearer windows on the front side of the building. His eye caught something peculiar when looking for his booth in the back, and picked up his pace for it. The booth was empty of the glasses from earlier, save for a small napkin folded hastily in half. On the top part of the napkin was a scribbled "N". _Neeva._

He picked up the paper suspiciously, preparing himself for some sort of booby trap. It was a ridiculous notion, of course. On the inside fold was the same handwriting, this time spelling out a name, first and last. Garrus squinted his eyes at the paper, anger and anxiety rumbling in his gut. He had a terrible feeling about this woman now that his sobriety had returned to him. With an inkling of an idea, he quickly opened his omnitool display and punched in the name. As he had suspected, it was a calltag, the name illuminating just a hint brighter than the display to reflect its validity. He contemplated sending a message, but decided against it for now. She could wait to speak with him for a bit longer. It obviously wasn't important enough for her to have chased after him when he had left earlier. He tossed the napkin back on the table and turned to exit the bar, out of ideas on where his friend could have gone.

* * *

A week later, and still no Sidonis. Garrus was returning from his daily rounds of the neighborhood and surrounding district in search of his friend. Everyone, himself especially, had become increasingly worried at their friend's absence. Upon returning to the stronghold, he entered to the crew gathered around the main mess table as they had now taken to daily, maps and data pads strewn about the surface. Each member was discussing or arguing different routes, frantically drawing on the open maps, or typing hastily into their respective holo keyboards. Butler spotted Garrus and left the table, drawing his Commander to the side with an arm draped around his shoulder.

"What is it, Butler?" The large man looked nervous, an adjective not often used to describe his burley comrade.

"Seeing as how you didn't walk in with Sidonis…we might have some bad news. But I'm not sure it's a good time to discuss it. Weaver discovered it, and it made Melenis intriguingly upset for whatever reason. If you can ignore the awkward tension for now, I promise I'll fill you in on everything after she goes to sleep."

"What?" Garrus, unfortunately for Butler, craned his neck around to peer very conspicuously over Butler's shoulder at the table. Everyone fell silent as they felt his eyes on Melenis, who was trying very hard to appear focused on her datapad.

"Melenis, could you hand me that plug in, please?" She reached for a cord opposite her and nearly smashed it into Weaver's chestplate, causing him to let out a light huff. It wasn't anywhere near hard enough to hurt, but the loss of breath and surprise was apparent.

Garrus leaned his elbows on the table, feeling like a stern parent about to interrogate his children. "Alright, someone tell me what's going on here. I didn't find Sidonis. Why isn't he back yet?"

"I was getting suspicious of his disappearance at such an odd time. I pulled up his files and found very recent transactions on his account from the main capitol." Weaver paused his narration when Melenis let out an audible sigh and excused herself from the table. "Garrus, I don't think he is lost…I think he might have left on purpose. He is obviously using his share of the earned funds on his own."

The harsh reality of his friend's departure settled in with Weaver's words. The answer was self-evident. Sidonis had gotten fed up with Garrus's attitude and finally decided to leave. He felt the urge to leave again, to find the bar and drink. Instead he grabbed a datapad and angrily stomped up the stairs to his loft, shutting and locking the door behind him.

.vVv.

Chakwas was a complete mess. She hadn't slept in at least 56 hours. Thank the heavens for caffeine pills. Or perhaps she should have chosen to thank the hells, seeing as the side effects to using the pills to stay awake constantly was not something she chose to think about. She was a doctor for crying out loud! She should know better than to subject her body to such tortures. Then again, her patients weren't necessarily going out of their way to make her job easier. In fact, the two that took most of her time were people that knew her the best out of the entire crew. She wiped sweat from her forehead and furrowed her brow for focus.

"Ow!" Damnit.

"Shepard, honestly, I'm not going to be able to get anything accomplished with your incessant whining." A resounding giggle from the man in the corner did not help.

"If I hear one more peep out of you, Joker, I'll jettison you into the unknown during the next mass jump."

That got him to shut up. "Doc, if you do that, it will through off the entire ship. We'll all die. In fact, if you jettison me in a pod, I'll be the only one to live!" Nevermind.

"We can't have that." Shepard smiled at the fervent doctor, bringing out a large, if not exhausted grin from Chakwas. No matter what ever happened, she would always love these two patients of hers. Despite how tired her core felt from sitting in front of the Commander, hunched shoulders and strained neck, she felt alive and happy to be here. It was a privilege and an honor to have been standing in front of Shepard once again. When she saw her for the first time in 2 years, Chakwas had almost fainted. Her first reaction was a cry of mixed emotions before she reached out for a loving hug. It was like reuniting with a long lost child, one that she both loved and fiercely respected. Her death had been nothing but pure devastation, and Chakwas longed for nothing else than to be back on the Normandy. Cerberus had made that dream come true when they brought back Shepard.

Seeing the woman standing tall, healthy if not a little scarred, and radiant as ever brought a burning fire back into her life. Shepard was back, and the whole galaxy had damn well be ready for her.

.vVv.

Garrus stared at the ever obvious mark on Neeva's shoulder. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing yourself as you are without leaving anything to imagination. Nothing could change what he was seeing, and it terrified him. This was what he had done in his blind drunken state. Rage fought against anxiety inside him, reaching for an outlet. Rage won.

"What is medi-gel for if you aren't going to use it?!"

Neeva stared blankly at him before moving her hand to cover the burning mark in shame. But Garrus did not pity her in the slightest. She brought this on herself, and he thought her the fool because of it.

Her voice quivered and she dropped her head down as she spoke. "I didn't have any on me. It was the residential district so you can't expect anyone here to have any-"

"I don't want to hear you speak right now. Just let me think." Garrus's heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest from how hard it had begun hammering. Not from excitement or happiness or love like it would normally in a situation like this. Its beating was sporadic because of the guilt and anguish now filling his body to the very bone. He had promised himself to Shepard, the promise of love to a loved one now gone. _Sprits, what have I done…_

He couldn't think any longer, he could only sit. Sit and stare at his miserable handiwork. The only thing that continued to pry at his mind was why Neeva had wanted to tell him about her keeping the mark. Wasn't she ashamed of it? Did she not have others she wanted to be with? Perhaps it wasn't the same in Heliad clans. It was possible that they did not hold bond marks to as high esteem as other turian cultures. He shook his head and rubbed his face into his palms. That theory didn't make any sense for their situation. The only other logical explanation was that she…wanted this. He raised his head up to peer at her now shy form. He stared until she tired of his watching her and sat across from him on the cold floor of his lofted room. Garrus cleared his throat and prepared himself for her response to his feared theory.

"Why did you tell me?...Why didn't you run away?"

Neeva closed her eyes and sat tall in front of his scrutinizing gaze. With a deep breath, she answered with the sentence they both were reluctant to hear. "Because I didn't mind it. You looked like you needed help in your life, and I was drawn to you for whatever reason. I'm okay with this…because I want to help you."

Garrus squeezed his eyes shut and pretended like he hadn't just heard that. He sat and thought long and hard about the woman in front of him. Painfully aware of Shepard's memory still burning hot in his heart, he forced himself to reopen his eyes. He stood and flexed his hands into fists to calm himself. Gesturing for the door, he quietly bid her goodnight. "You can stay and help _us_. The crew could use an extra hand."

When she had almost fully exited through the door frame, he watched Neeva's body pause and turn slightly back towards him.

"Do you think…you'd ever let yourself be marked?" Garrus's eyes widened at the absurd question and he swallowed his swelling anger. With a hasty "no", he remotely closed the door, pushing Neeva outside. He locked the hatch and sealed himself inside his room, to be alone with his new found demons.

.vVv.

"I think you know why we're here."

Sidonis darted his tired eyes around the room. At least he had enough energy to do that much. His captors and subsequent torturers were all Blue Suns. So it came as a slight surprise to him when he noticed both Eclipse and Blood Pack representatives today.

"We've got a job for you, scum. One that we think you'll find hard to resist." Funny how _they_ were the ones calling _him_ scum. Sidonis spit at his side. It took more effort than he liked to admit to muster up the strength for an answer.

"I only work for Archangel."

"Exactly! That's why you're going to help us trap him."

Sidonis laughed a fierce and angry laugh, hoping to show them he was too insane to trust with any sort of treachery against his friend. The laugh was gone in a second though, replaced by choking and rasping in his throat from a grimy hand closed around his windpipes. Stars danced in front of his eyes and his vision around it blurred and lost focus. All he saw now were shadowy figures of various colors. The red one was the one grabbing him. He shifted his eyes over as best he could to the now approaching blue shadow. The blue blob began to speak to him in an angry voice.

"We're not letting him get away with attempting an assassination! And we're willing to prove to you how serious we are. Do you remember your family?" The red shadow released his hold on Sidonis's neck and he gasped and wheezed for air as if there could never be enough of it. While clearing his throat and coughing, he managed to squeeze out a small response with a rough laugh behind it. Stupid fools didn't know that his family was dead?

"They died from the plague." He'd never get out of here alive, but he was coming to terms with that fact. They had nothing on him, and Sidonis would take his loyalty to the grave.

"We know, you slimy piece of pyjack shit. But since we're all well aware of that fact, let's make sure you understand the situation."

The Salarian in Yellow coughed to announce his turn at spewing bullshit. But what Sidonis heard out of his mouth next shocked him to his core.

"Just remember the feeling you had when you lost your precious family. Remember it when we're slowly killing off the family members of your crew." Sidonis could barely believe what was happening. His breathing turned frantic, and his thoughts were a buzz. If they knew about the crew and their families, did that mean that they had them in possession already? How were they able to figure it all out so quickly, or did they already collect this information when Archangel first made an appearance? The red Krogan smacked Sidnois's head hard on his temple. His ears began ringing and he attempted to shake off the resounding headache that followed to no avail. He vomited on the floor in front of him.

"Disgusting." He heard it from somewhere in the room. His eyes were dizzy and he let his head lull backwards weakly. He was so tired, so utterly exhausted. It would be such a relief to simply die of heart failure. That would make everything easy for him. No more having to answer to anyone, no more tough decisions, no more protecting this person or that person. But somehow, life came back to him once more as he smiled at the thought of an interesting conclusion.

"You're bluffing."

"No we're not." The blasted retort came so quickly, Sidonis knew immediately that they planned this whole conversation. He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a bit of relaxation. Of course they knew what he would say, what kind of drugged up, beaten, tired fool isn't ever predictable? When he opened his eyes again, his line of sight fell on candid pictures on the holographic displays of the merc leaders' omnitools. It was all the proof he needed to feel completely hopeless. There was no fighting the inevitable. Sidonis would have to betray his best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. How could he refuse to help? The Mercenaries were giving him a choice between Archangel's life, or the lives of about 20 innocent people. If he had learned anything from Garrus in their time together, it was that there was no choice when it came to situations like this. The lives of the many outweigh the lives of the few, and that fact was one that became more painfully apparent with each passing picture that the omnitools flipped through.

With a lump in his throat and heart aching more than it ever had before, he acquiesced to their proposal.


	10. SR10: The Art of Lying

_**Morning everyone. I'm sorry for the wait; you're all so wonderful for being patient with my writing habits.**_

_**A lot of you hated meeting Neeva last time around...this chapter has a bit more of her. ;)**_

_** Let me know what you think!**_

.vVv.

* * *

.vVv.

In his entire time on Omega, nothing had bothered Garrus more so than seeing the bond mark on Neeva's shoulder. Almost every day had given a glimpse of some type of anguish, whether it was death, pain, or sorrow. Those never fazed him in the slightest. Neeva's shoulder however, that was a completely different story; one that crippled him and left him unable to cope with anything. His mind couldn't focus on any other important matter that demanded his attention. Instead it always brought him right back to that incriminating mark. He hadn't even fully bonded with Shepard.

The reality of the situation finally sank in as he remembered all of the times he shared with Jane. He had never felt love before her, and he knew he never would again. So many opportunities to bond with her were missed, simply because they both never saw themselves without each other. Being with her was such a simple time, no matter what sort of crazy missions they went on. For all he cared, they could have discovered a million ships like Sovereign and still been okay. Nothing in the galaxy affected them because they were together, in fighting, working, and loving. He had always felt that everything was easy with Shepard by his side. Had he already made his mark on Shepard, he would have never even thought about doing it to someone else for as long as he lived, drunk or not. Perhaps it was that small fact that he hadn't done it before, that his body yearned for it with someone he truly loved, that caused his drunken body to commit such an intimate act.

Regret flooded him and Garrus found himself lying on the floor, lethargic as ever. There he stayed for the rest of the night, swallowing nervously, never quite getting rid of the feeling of dread that now occupied his being. Nothing could have prepared him for seeing Neeva again. He shouldn't have called her after discovering her call tag. But what was he supposed to do? He knew she was interested by the way she almost forced herself onto him. The sad truth was that calling her back was most likely his way of reaching out since Shepard's death. Although, he never thought that he would begin to move on from his relationship with her through an almost forced bonding. What kind of psychotic turian female would want to actually _keep_ a bond mark made by a total stranger? It was very possible that Garrus was over thinking his half of the blame in this. Turian's marking their one night stands through lack of self control was not unheard of, in fact it was probably a lot more common since the establishment of legalized consort chambers. Even if the turian hadn't meant it, medi-gel was always the cure to an accidental bond. But Neeva was something else, and with each passing second his opinion of her only grew darker and more disgusted.

Hours went by before his brooding was interrupted with a light chime from his omnitool. A message? He lazily lifted his arm so as not to get off of the floor. Nothing could break him out of this sulk session; not even – _Sidonis?_

** LSidonis- Hey.**

Garrus was beside himself with utter confusion. But his befuddlement was quickly replaced with a mixture of relief and happiness to be seeing his friend's name on the holoscreen. He rose from the floor and sat at his desk, pulling up the messaging program.

** GVakarian- Lantar. Good to hear from you.

LSidonis- Listen, I really need to talk to you. I didn't walk away, Blood Pack got me.

GVakarian- …

GVakarian- …Is this a joke?

GVakarian- Please tell me this is a joke. Are you alright?

LSidonis- It's not a joke. Got lucky but I'm in bad shape. That's not the point. The point is I eavesdropped and got some good stuff for you.

GVakarian- Leave it to you to turn a kidnapping into a mission. Where do you want to meet up?

LSidonis- At the bar. Yes, _that_ bar.

GVakarian- I can leave right now.

LSidonis- I'll need directions. BPs got me because I got lost looking for your sorry ass.

GVakarian- Shit, I had a bad feeling about that. I'm sorry. From the medical school, go left 5 blocks and make a right into the alley. Sneaky left into another alley and follow the vorcha. Entrance, left side. Can't miss it.

LSidonis- I feel like an idiot for not remembering that. Heading there now.

.vVv.

Lantar could barely keep his demeanor in check. Seated at a secluded booth in the Endless Tap, he was fidgeting constantly while re-reading his conversation with Garrus over and over. The lies he had said to him were stabbing wounds into his heart. If it had been that hard for him to simply _type_ those fabrications, he didn't know how it would be possible for him to speak more face to face. Garrus was his best friend, and he was about to ruin it all. At least it was for a good cause, but that didn't lessen the pain of it all.

He laughed disdainfully at himself. Everything was his fault. Garrus had needed someone, and Lantar had never tried hard enough. Sure he was pushed away when he did try to console his friend, but he had given up after that. He had always resolved to simply let Garrus be. It was darkly funny that the one time he had decided to chase after his friend was the time that shit hit the fan. Too little too late rang the most true in his mind.

He ordered two drinks for himself and his soon-to-arrive guest. Might as well loosen up a little. When the drinks arrived, he downed half of his in one gulp in an attempt to prepare himself for what was to come. He wasn't even sure if Garrus would trust him. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he could keep it together while leading his one, true friend into a death trap. Sweat was gathering in the most uncomfortable places while he watched the time slowly tick away. For the second time in a week, he found himself wishing he were dead. Since when had he become so suicidal? Since his best friend became the center of every Mercenary lord's attention.

"Sidonis! Spirits, you look like hell."

_Fuck. _Sidonis had not been ready. That sneaky bastard had snuck right into the seat across from him while he had his eyes closed, rehearsing treacherous lines. As he looked into Garrus's questioning face, he mentally remembered the pictures of each of their squad member's families. He was doing this for Butler and his wife and child. He was doing this for Weaver's salarian relatives; for the brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, cousins and extended family of the entire squad. He cleared his throat before beginning.

"I uh, had a rough week."

"You said it. How did you get away?"

Sidonis was caught off guard by that question. For some reason he had only gone over the parts where he would tell him about the false information. Good thing improvisation came easily to him. "They came in each day around the same time to beat me. On the last day one of the Krogan officers kicked me so hard, my chair fell over. I guess somehow the backing of the chair rubbed on the crude bindings around my hands. I just sort of wriggled free after that. No one bothered to bar the door."

Garrus chuckled at their falsified stupidity. "Guess they hadn't counted on you extorting their carelessness."

"Yeah, I guess not." Sidonis laughed awkwardly. Each bit of silence between sentences made his head hurt with anguish. _I will never forgive myself for this, Garrus. _ "So on my way through the halls, there was a steel door that I heard loud discussions through. I sat to listen in, and heard most of what they were saying."

He paused to gather up the rest of his courage. Sorrow filled him at the terrifying realization that his story was becoming easier to tell as he continued talking. Funny how adaptive turians were. Even with something like this, it only ever gets easier to do it over and over. If he had ever known when he first met Garrus that he would eventually get good at lying to him right to his face, he never would've agreed to form a partnership. _Do it for them. For the crew. For the innocent lives. _He pressed on regretfully. "They were talking about a gun running operation. It sounded like their plan was to smuggle imports through the lower residential levels of Kenzo, keeping a low profile by splitting up the shipments to different groups. They'd all take different routes to their base of operations, each arriving at different times. Then they'll count up the stock, divide it evenly amongst a new set of 'delivery men' and have them haul each order to the recipients."

He watched Garrus with anticipation to see if he bought the story. If his friend was feeling leery about it, he'd have to improvise quickly to convince him otherwise.

"Sidonis, do you realize how incredible this is? We can all form up, head to a vantage point close to their base, and take out almost every single one of them before they can even load them onto their vehicles!" Garrus was ecstatic about the news and Lantar couldn't help but audibly sigh at his success. The hardest part was over.

"We need to go tell the others. Come on, Sidonis. You can explain the smaller details to the whole crew."

.vVv.

Neeva met the two turians at the back entry. As Garrus approached, an all consuming impatience filled him and he found himself becoming more and more annoyed with each step. Why was she waiting for them? For what purpose did she find it necessary to block the entry? How did she even know they were here?

"Who the hell are you?" Sidonis immediately whipped out the pistol he had clipped to his leg and pointed it right at Neeva's nose. Her arms slowly went up, but she ignored him and instead turned her attention to Garrus.

"There's a situation with Weaver." She seemed completely unfazed by the cold barrel that was practically resting on her face now. Garrus kept his cold eyes on her, studying the way her heart was keeping calm and steady. She wasn't nervous, she wasn't anxious. Strange, but unfortunately not convicting enough to make him care.

"There's almost always a situation with Weaver. I have business that I need to attend to." He paused to rest his hand on Sidonis's shoulder in a silent bid to have the gun lowered. The weapon slowly fell down to be placed back in its holster. He began to pass by her but her hand reached out and caught on his arm, sending a rigged tenseness through his spine. His eyes narrowed and he menacingly turned his face to glower at the intruding woman.

She continued, unwavering. "Garrus, it's about Melenis. She left today."

He searched her mouth and mandibles for any sign of twitching, her neck for any sign of straining, her eyes for any sign of lying. When he found none, he exhaled and beckoned for her to elaborate.

"Weaver found some troubling evidence about Melenis being untrustworthy. He says she's been spying on us."

"_Us_?" Sidonis nearly snarled at her subtle pronoun. "Garrus who is this person even! I've never seen her before in my life."

"My name is Neeva. I'm his bond mate."

Garrus froze in place. If he had thought it unraveling to merely _see_ her shoulder, he surely felt this to be much, _much_ worse. Hearing her speak those blasphemous words made his stomach convulse as he braced a hand against Sidonis's shoulder for balance. He felt his past shatter into a million tiny pieces all around him. Who was he anymore?

When he finally took in a breath, he saw Lantar shake his head and continue up the stairs without him, rubbing his hands together nervously. Garrus would never live this one down. Casting a dangerous glare to Neeva, he slowly began the trek up the stairs for Weaver.

.vVv.

"I thought I told you not to _fuck _with me, Shepard."

The woman in question held her arms up exasperatedly in a show of compliance. "Aria, relax. This is _hardly_ fucking. I just need some answers." She sat without permission. Aria simply glanced at her and followed suit on the opposite end of the couch.

"You're still alive because I like you. But you're pushing your luck." Her violet hand reached towards a rather tall batarian, who promptly filled the void in her palm with a glass. Aria sipped at the drink slowly, eyeing Shepard with a look not far from murderous. It was either that or villainously seductive, though the latter made her cringe. Aria didn't like to be fucked, and one could only assume that she meant it to apply to _both_ connotations. So Shepard decided to wait. She leaned back against the plush leather behind her and crossed her arms over her chest plate. The N7 logo glinted in the black lights of the club, timed to the rumbling bass that surrounded them. For a while she zoned out into the shadowy movements of the night club, thinking only of how severely she hated the music. Aria was drinking the contents of the glass at an agonizingly slow pace however, and Shepard soon became restless. She might have all the patience in the galaxy, but Archangel couldn't afford as much. She tapped her foot before finally speaking.

"Alright, Aria. Tell me what you know about Archangel."

A sly smirk before she threw her head back to finish her drink. The asari cleared her throat before leaning into the corner of the sectional with an arm draped over its backing. Her smirk grew.

"My, two recruits in one day? What kind of plans are you cooking up?"

"That's classified."

"Oh come on now, _Shepard_. I only like gambling when I've got the winning numbers."

"You've got them already, _Aria_. I'm just borrowing one of them."

"Mordin was hardly a winning number. But you should be so lucky that I simply gifted him to you."

"I suspect you wouldn't just give me something you find useful."

Aria clicked her tongue between her teeth before letting out a throaty chuckle. "You can have them both for all I care. Mordin wasn't a winning number and Archangel...well, he's a thorn in _everyone's_ side."

"So then why keep him from me?" Jane intentionally kept her eyes on the dangerous asari, watching and waiting for an inevitably angry reply. It never came, though, and she was instead met with a rather obnoxious laugh. That one must have been forced. Aria had then unclipped her Carnifex from its holster at her thigh and began dismantling it. She leisurely glanced up at Shepard every now and then, as if checking to see if she would still be there by the time she finished. When the pieces lay splayed between them, she picked up each one in turn and began cleaning.

"I have spies everywhere. For the longest time, I even had a spy close to Archangel." First piece finished and shining; she handled the next and continued, "He was able to report on their comings and goings from the lair, how many were present at a time, and how many he took with him on missions. It sounds seemingly pointless, but it proved very useful. He kept his distance from me always, but I was still wary to an extent of his…potential." Next piece. "One day, my spy did not report back to me. It wasn't until a week later that a wimpy little shopkeeper in his district came by to deliver a video. It was a recording of the outside of his shop, but incidentally, a gun glinted in the distance of the far corner. A few seconds later, a body drops with a resounding crack right at the shop's door step from above. I could only assume the gun was Archangel's since the body that had fallen was my spy." Aria paused and clicked the heat sink back into place. She pointed the gun at Shepard's face. "The last thing shown before the video cuts out is another glint of the same gun…then a split second later, a loud smack. The video ends there."

She lowered the gun and fingered at its grooves, almost lovingly. Shepard could only smirk as she realized that Aria wasn't just angry at this vigilante. She was _afraid_. Commanding a ship with a variety of crew members was a game that Shepard had played for a very long time. Long enough to be extremely good at reading people she encountered. Aria was definitely scary and absolutely psychotic, but she knew fear when she saw it, and this woman was teeming with it. Her power on Omega was at stake here. This could only mean that Aria would be glad to have the masked turian out of her hair, though she might not readily admit it. Jane reached for her own gun and cocked the chamber before pointing it in mimicry. Aria's bodyguard jumped at the sight and fumbled for his pistol for a bit before setting its barrel into Shepard's temple. Unflinching and unmoved, Shepard smirked playfully at the asari.

"A favor for your hospitality, then. You want peace? I'll make sure he never comes back." A long silence followed as she watched Aria. So focused on her reaction was she, that she was even able to see the Queen's pupils dilating in and out slowly. Shepard blinked when Aria broke the awkward situation with another bout of obnoxious laughter. She signaled to the uptight batarian after calling him a bumbling snail and stood to offer a hand to her new friend.

"Mercs are using one of the rooms downstairs for recruiting. It was lovely doing business with you, Shepard. I've decided that I do like you for sure, and I really do hope you don't piss off anyone enough to kill you." Her wicked smile faltered when Shepard grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her close, whispering into Aria's ear, "Death doesn't scare me, Queen bee."

.vVv.

"I love her, Garrus." Weaver's voice sounded as tired and strained as his face reflected. Wide eyes were fixed on a single omnitool on the table. It was a great contrast to their usual incessant darting around. To say the salarian was anxious would have been a dramatic understatement. Garrus could practically feel the man's erratic heartbeat from across the room. Hands were constantly wringing and rubbing together, and it seemed to be all Weaver could do to not experience some sort of mental break. So the turian opted for patience, and he sat in his usual spot on the couch. Before long, Weaver came to sit next to his commander, visibly more calm than he had been. It was a step in the right direction.

"Weaver, tell me what happened…Is that her omni-tool?" He noticed the salarian's heart pick up its pace once more, and for a second, he wondered at the oddity. But he was brought back to focus on his friend.

"I…This isn't about sadness, Garrus. Please understand. I would not be anxious if she was unhappy in our relationship…which I am of course doubt now too. But I found data on her omnitool. Incriminating data. Files, endless files on you, me, everyone."

"Wait, what? What kinds of files – "

"Files about our lives, and our families. There were extended data collections on each member of our families, their occupations, their own lives. Then there were messages. I did not want to read them, Garrus, but the files were too suspicious. She had been sending messages to an unknown party. Reporting to them the information in the files. She has been…spying." Weaver hung his head low with his final word while Garrus's mind reeled at the implications of his friend's story. Melenis was a spy? How many did he have to take out before they were rid of outsiders? He thought he had kept the crew safe with the last spy he had taken out, but he never would have foreseen this.

.vVv.

Around the corner, Neeva leaned against the doorway with a quiet sigh as she listened patiently to Weaver's concerns.


End file.
